Jody Weber’s dances sometimes look truncated, as if she’d worked on them so long that she finally put a stop to them, even though there might be more to say. In the 2002 trio Crave, shown last weekend, June 13 and 14, at Green Street Studios, Audra Carabetta, Heather McQuiston, and Nicole Pierce scrambled on the floor and trailed each other around. They conveyed the idea of a struggle without being in contact. Then Carabetta, in a stark rectangle of light, slowly arched and stretched, writhed and fell, stood staring into the outer space. The lights went out as she lay flat on her back, tense and perhaps terrified. There wasn’t any concluding section to indicate how the first two sections went together, or if they did. Perhaps Carabetta was going through pangs of withdrawal, from addiction, from love, from her former companions.

What keeps Weber’s dances from looking merely cryptic or arbitrary is her sense of composition. Some movement theme or floor pattern recurs often enough for the audience to recognize connections between events. The five women in Crosscut, one of three new works on the program, suggested haughty barefoot ballerinas, mincing around with grand gestures to John Zorn’s music, on tape, for rhythmic percussion and strings.

As if encouraged by Zorn’s initial plucked and whiny cello, the dancers subverted proper balletic order. They’d step into a line-up or a cordial ring and then peel out on their own before they could be caught in conformity. Later they alternated ballet steps like pas de chat and chaîné turns with eccentric moves like running in a circle around one hand planted on the floor.

Susan Lane’s three-part installation occupied some of the space in Crosscut: a tangle of what may have been copper wire downstage on the floor, another knot hanging behind a swag of white gauze, and a pile of the same fabric near the back wall. The dancers for the most part ignored these features in their landscape, but during one section, one stationed herself behind the scrim doing the same thing as the others. The dance ended with two of the women in a tangle on the floor and the other three in a line facing upstage, doing stretches.

It’s not always easy to be sure of the dancers’ identities in Weber’s work. Possibly some of this had to do with Joseph Levendusky’s atmospheric lighting. But concealment was also built in. A woman whose face you never got to see was the subject of Broken Red Line, a film by Marjorie Morgan with concept and choreography by Weber. The woman (Julie Pike Edmond) laid out cards, whose faces you didn’t get to see either. She loitered on a rainy street, poked around a parking lot, appeared to be searching for something.

A voice read lines from Jeanette Winterson about time as the woman’s upper body rippled in silhouette. Long before the reader asked, " Is knowledge increasing or is detail accumulating? " , I had written a note to myself that despite its close focus on details like the woman’s hair and her hands, the film kept its secrets.

As if to answer my question with another question, the next dance, Vox Silencia (2003), began with only Julie Pike Edmond facing the audience and the other three women turned away. Pike Edmond often seemed to be excluded from the other group as the dance went on to explore various partner combinations and canonic phrases with what looked like random variations in timing. In The Tourists, Weber’s other premiere, Carabetta, Pike Edmond, and the choreographer impersonated cliché tourist types, boogieing to a tropical beat by Tito Puente. They spread out a map and argued about it. They whipped out cell phones, behaved obnoxiously, and moved on five minutes later, leaving the floor littered with takeout containers. Perhaps Weber intends to use these characters later to make some further commentary.

For the 2002 dance Gloria’s Delight, Weber used three movements of a Vivaldi violin concerto to pursue movement possibilities and develop ideas about friendship. The dance began with a trio of women cheerfully dancing non sequiturs: chasing and expansive noble gestures, pushing and shoving, precious contacts like linking their pinkies, and dangerous intimacies like two of them supporting the other, then letting her fall. Two more women (Weber and Irene Lutts) danced in complete accord, moving from exact unison to complementary designs and conversational turn-taking. When they were done, one kissed the other lightly on the top of the head. A final ensemble brought together the movement themes as well as the mutual affection.