When I first heard of Azara Ballet not quite four years ago, I loved everything about it — well, about the concept anyway. The idea of a company that was more inclusive of artists and more approachable to audience members who fell outside traditional ballet norms, seemed like a grand and overdue rewrite of the unforgiving and often unhealthy ballet culture I’d experienced myself in younger years.

But decades as a ballet dancer, teacher and critic had left me with my own expectations and biases. And though I went with high hopes and an open mind, after watching Azara’s debut performance in 2023 I left thinking: “Nice idea. Not sure that’s going to work.”

The technical execution was uneven, the choreography simplistic, the lighting and recorded music too reminiscent of a school recital. Though I did appreciate the dancers’ full-hearted commitment, I wasn’t sure the company met a standard of professionalism that could spell survival in a competitive arts town.

So, having just watched the finale of Azara’s third full season, I’m happy to say that, were I wearing a hat, I’d happily eat it. In just three short years, the company founded by Kate and Martin Flowers — both dancers with their own experiences of toxic ballet culture — has grown from a glorified experiment to a bonafide success, without sacrificing either quality or its principles. In a program called “Seasons,” with just two ballets on the bill (both, as Kate Flowers called, them “queer-focused”), it checked all the boxes: accessibility for uninitiated dance watchers; intriguing, original choreography; effective sets and lighting; and, best of all, terrific dancing.

One thing that Azara does very well is de-mystifying contemporary dance, which tends to intimidate people with its lack of an easily discernable narrative. (The question I am mostly frequently asked as I leave a show is, “But what did that mean?”) This is accomplished with video segments introducing the works that follow, with the choreographer offering not just esoteric artist jargon about the upcoming piece, but an actual concrete explanation.

Thus we learned from Artistic Director Joshua Stayton that his piece, “Four Seasons,” would follow Mother Nature through the course of a young man’s life, with spring, summer, autumn and winter representing his birth, adolescence, adulthood and death respectively. (Martin Flowers dances the young man’s role.)

The music is — what else? — Antonio Vivaldi’s iconic “Four Seasons,” though British composer and pianist Max Richter’s reimagining of that familiar score. The choreography reflects Stayton’s classical background (he spent a year with the Sarasota Ballet in 2014) — traditional, yet varied, imaginative and with an eye for alluring lines.

The action takes place in front of a beautiful backdrop of a flower bedecked terrace with four arched windows, each depicting a different seasonal scene (a lighting accent moves from window to window as the seasons pass). Likewise, the costumes — gauzy, wide legged pants overlaid with chiffon skirts for both men and women — also move from the pastels of spring and summer, through the rusts and coppers of autumn to a somber black.

In a smoky mist, Mother Nature (Avery Held), a regal figure in a verdant dress with long hair and longer legs, glides across the stage on pointe, welcoming a young couple (Mackenzie David and Robert Stanley) in love, who soon produce a child (Flowers). Summer brings both tortures (bullying) and first love (Nicholas Garlo) while autumn descends into self-denial amid the pressures of a closeted life.

In the final section, the figures of the man’s past circle him like so many memories as Mother Nature gives her final embrace. A bittersweet and tender piece, with a overlay of melancholy, it captured the pains of a life that, as Stayton put it is “shaped by both love and restraint.”

Though Martin Flower’s “The Woman in White,” the other piece on the program, touched on some of the same themes, it was an entirely different animal. This was an historical work with a modern interpretation, based on the life of the poet Emily Dickinson, who is believed to have been autistic and also to have had an abiding love for a woman. (It is said Dickinson refused to wear any other color but white; thus the title.)

Here the dancers wear socks instead of pointe shoes and high-necked period costumes that mirror the stifling social mores of the time. The music is a sequence of songs by Aurora that so closely match the story that unfolds it almost seems like a commissioned score. The sets are simple — the family dinner table; chairs in a row representing a school; Emily’s writing desk — but effective and easily maneuvered.

We first see Dickinson (Baylie Dockins) as a young girl in seminary school, chastised by her rigidly punitive tutor (Drew Travis Robinson), and at home, where her authoritarian father (Robert Stanley) and passive mother (Rebecca Kimsey) exacerbate her existing anxieties and her brother Austin (Garlo, as an obnoxious egoist) tortures her mercilessly.

The poet finds her muse in Susan (Olivia Huseonica), who appears to share her devotion. But the course of queer love never did run straight. Society forces their separation and cruel fate joins the abusive Austin and Emily’s beloved Susan in a highly dysfunctional marriage.

Of the half dozen pieces I’ve seen that Flowers has created for the company, this was the standout, his choreography making each of the characters spring to life. You despise Garlo almost immediately (as you’re meant to), even though he’s one of the strongest dancers on the stage. (He flings his body around with scarily wild abandon). Robinson is so dynamically diabolical he reminds you of every hateful teacher you’ve ever had and Dockins… well I can’t say enough, not just about her dancing, which is stunning, but her full-out commitment to the role. I got a contact anxiety attack just watching her tight fists clutching her skirt at the tensest moments.

It’s not easy for any ballet company to make a go of it these days, much less one that is willing to defy traditional standards, take on controversial topics and stand up against culture wars that would preferably be left out of the artistic arena. Azara has done what I wasn’t sure was possible and I only hope any skeptics who’ve yet to watch the company will show up and see what ballet can look like when it opens its doors to a wider world.

Azara Ballet “Seasons.” Riverview Performing Arts Center, 1 Ram Way. Additional performance March 21. azaraballet.org