Sylvie Guillem in "6000 Miles Away" at David H. Koch Theater In the ephemeral world of dance it's telling to consider what sticks - not only onstage but also in the memory. In mine, from 2006, resides a beaming Sylvie Guillem during curtain calls for "Push," a program in which she collaborated with the choreographer Russell Maliphant. Choreographically the evening was bleak, but I'll never forget how she came to life during the bows and how sad it made me feel: this French ballerina, handpicked by Rudolf Nureyev to become an étoile at the Paris Opera Ballet, needs the spotlight. In the theater that's just another word for love. Now 47 and equipped with just as strong a body as ever - which has its good and bad points - Ms. Guillem is back in New York with "6000 miles away," a Sadler's Wells London/Sylvie Guillem production presented by the Joyce Theater Foundation. As a showcase for Ms. Guillem it is, once again, negligible fare. The program, which opened at the David H. Koch Theater on Wednesday night, features Ms. Guillem in two of three dances. While it's a close call, she did have the sense not to appear in the hokiest of them all: a duet from Jiri Kylian's "27"52." Aurélie Cayla and Lukas Timulak, former members of Nederlands Dans Theater, do the honors. For Ms. Guillem there is a duet by William Forsythe and a solo by Mats Ek. By default the highlight is "Rearray" by Mr. Forysthe, who has an uncanny sense of how to use Ms. Guillem's body as an instrument. She was an original dancer in his throbbing, now classic "In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated." There is little sense of vulnerability in her powerful limbs. Rather, he studies the dance history in her body, and she performs with the diligence of a machine. In terms of Mr. Forsythe's lighting concept, which is realized by Rachel Shipp and features constant blackouts - it's as if dusk were controlled by a dimmer switch - this dance could be taking place in a cave. Ms. Guillem performs opposite the La Scala principal Massimo Murru, a dancer with rebellious long hair who relishes the scruffier possibilities of using his weight. If "Rearray" means to array again, Mr. Forsythe is decking Ms. Guillem out in classical vocabulary, with, of course, his usual fragmented tweaks. The movement is transmitted in harried bursts. Buried within the 13 sections of solos and duets are arabesques, beaten jumps, supported pirouettes and arms crossed at the wrists - yes, like a swan - that retreat into the foggy landscape like flashbacks. Throughout the dance, set to David Morrow's spare score, Ms. Guillem and Mr. Murru deconstruct classical material or appear to mark it - when the dancers don't perform in full force - with perfunctory legs and vivid arms. Sometimes, in the gloom, the arms are all you see. Less apparent than the swirling movement, which is more about energetic impulse than shape, are the extreme changes in speed and the way in which Mr. Forsythe braids tension with bodies. But the constant haze, which creates a soft focus, is not only monotonous, it makes you wonder, what are they trying to hide? At least it's refreshing to see a work by Mr. Forsythe without text. It's almost old school. While in "Rearray" Ms. Guillem wears an olive-green top with gray trousers - an everyday look conceived by Mr. Forsythe - her costume in Mr. Ek's "Bye" is like something a wacky librarian would wear on her way to children's story hour. Katrin Brannstrom, the set and costume designer, assembles a canary skirt, a patterned button-down shirt, an olive cardigan, and pink socks and shoes. Here Mr. Ek's tries humor by exploring Ms. Guillem's abilities as a mime. While she isn't half bad, it is unfortunate that the dance is mired in sappiness. Set to Beethoven's last Piano Sonata (Op. 111), "Bye" features Ms. Guillem coming into contact with her black-and-white doppelgänger shown on a screen, in the shape of a doorway, placed upstage. In the first moment Ms. Guillem appears in a film by Elias Benxon; eventually, flesh-colored hands grab the top of the screen - et voilà! - her head sits on top of her body's image. As the dance wears on, Ms. Guillem, who starts out as a loner and becomes part of a group, continues to interact with herself on screen. She's a girl in transition to womanhood, and her behavior is erratic: twice she performs a headstand with her legs in the air like a frog. She may be capable of being carefree onstage, but "Bye" isn't the vehicle in which to show it. There's little wit. Ms. Guillem is a dance conundrum: Even though her choreographic choices are too routine, it's impossible not to admire her drive for independence in the male-dominated - as far as positions of power are concerned - world of ballet. If only she had better taste. "6000 miles away" will be repeated on Saturday at the David H. Koch Theater, Lincoln Center; (212) 496-0600, davidhkochtheater.com.