A Paul Taylor sampler

At 52 and counting, the Paul Taylor Dance Company still has plenty to say. So does its eponymous founder and choreographer, which is why it’s always a pleasure to welcome the acclaimed New York troupe to the Southland.

Offering a broad sampling of Taylor classics and a trio of Southern California premieres over two nights, the 16 dancers displayed some serious gifts on the second of those Saturday -- all the better to showcase their guru’s finely crafted, equally bravura works.

With this year’s “Lines of Loss,” Taylor, as evidenced by the title, dives into the heart of unassailable grief, not his usual fare. A nine-part suite set to elegiac music by six composers spanning seven centuries, the piece made darkness visible, visceral and that much more enigmatic.

With no real story but bookended by a procession, the dance featured solo and group eruptions that suggested isolation and the need for emotional connection. Played out against a backdrop by Santo Loquasto of black, cloud-like waves, “Loss” was augmented as well by Jennifer Tipton’s appropriately stark lighting.

Here was Lisa Viola waving away tears, her fluttering fingers soon displaced by an astonishing series of backbends. A duet between her and Michael Trusnovec was no less affecting -- the pliant couple looking agonized and sumptuous by turns. Moving to Schnittke, their arms intertwined, they were lovers one moment, apart and crawling the next.

An earlier solo by Trusnovec set to Arvo Pärt found him hunched over, clutching his heart, an anguished soul lurching through the void. An athletic Robert Kleinendorst fended off misery by doing push-ups and taking his pulse as a group of dancers around him lunged obliviously. Annmaria Mazzini’s quicksilver spins also proved incapable of warding off pain.

A ceremonial finale, accompanied by funereal bells, featured the dancers solemnly walking before collapsing one by one, with only Viola left to march doggedly across the stage, she alone our grief-bearer.

Happily, Viola and Kleinendorst can both do knee-slapping comedy with the best of them. For that matter, so can Taylor. In “Troilus and Cressida (reduced),” a bit of whimsy from 2006 set to Ponchielli’s spoofable “Dance of the Hours,” Taylor combines Shakespeare with Disney (think “Fantasia”) for a hilarious romp featuring a trio of bewigged Cupids, three Greek invaders and the titular couple in gleeful bad-dance mode.

As Viola skidded, tripped and cavorted with a perplexed, belly-flopping Kleinendorst, awkwardness soared to new heights, and the piece gave goofiness a good name.

You had to love Troilus’ falling-down pants, a Keystone Kops-like chase scene and the entire cast indulging in an irrepressible can-can at the end. Loquasto’s lavish costumes and blue and gold backdrop added icing to the zany cake.

Opening the evening was Taylor’s intricately choreographed “Aureole” from 1962, a five-part work set to Handel that looked as lovely as ever. Again, Mazzini defined suppleness, though Orion Duckstein brought more grit than grace to his difficult adagio solo.

Completing the program was Taylor’s steamy “Piazzolla Caldera” from 1997. A brilliant blend of tango-like moves and modern vocabulary, this exhilarating number had the audience rightly begging for more.