I never thought “Lilac Garden,” Antony Tudor’s brilliant 1936 psychological elegy on love, longing and obligation set at a refined Edwardian garden party, would feel like a mere opening act. Nor that Ricardo Graziano’s “Valsinhas” — a playful suite of 25 Schubert waltzes, each less than a minute long — would seem like child’s play.

But those were exactly my thoughts at the conclusion of the opening night of The Sarasota Ballet’s “Notes Unspoken” program at the FSU Center for Performing Arts, which began with those two pieces, but ended with the grand reveal of Gemma Bond’s “The Waiting Room,” a kaleidoscope of kinetic energy that — had I been wearing any — would have knocked my socks off.

At just 25 minutes, Bond’s latest work — her fifth for the company — is so spirited, sweeping and packed with scenarios it reminded me of a 700-page book I recently couldn’t put down because it read like 50 novels in one. Its steady stream of wildly varied movement — among my scribbled notes were “conga line,” “crawling,” “head wobbles,” “prances,” and “Charleston” —- that flew by in a heartbeat. And while it departs from Bond’s typical abstract style, it’s doubtful any two viewers would interpret the narrative in the same way.

As the title implies, with 14 black chairs set in two horizontal lines and 14 dancers dressed in a hodge-podge of street wear that seems assembled from a delightfully eclectic thrift shop (costumes by Lauren Starobin), it’s set in some undefined waiting room….that much is clear. But just what this “gathering of people,” as Bond calls them, is waiting for, what their relationships are and why they interact in the frequently bizarre ways they do is anyone’s guess. Watching the action unfold, it’s as if you’re seeing the visualized fantasies of a bored someone sitting in waiting room with a lot of other bored someones and imagining them all going wild.

The music — nine pieces, four by Henry Purcell, two by Georg Philipp Telemann and one each by John Gibbons and Michael Nyman — is as eclectic as the costumes and the movement vocabulary, with harpsichord to choral music, composed as far back as the 1700s and as recently as 2004. Leading the pack is a bushy-haired Ze Ellis, who kicks things off as the first waitee to erupt as a tortured, frenetic soul, banging on imaginary walls and flinging his body around as if it lacked a skeleton.

Later Ellis is paired with Sierra Abelardo — in a frumpy pleated skirt, ankle socks and discordant shiny silver heels — for an anything but romantic pas de deux in which Abelardo literally dances out of her shoes … which are then scooped up and shuffled along by Ellis. He also executes one of the most unusual lifts I’ve ever seen in a ballet, picking up a stiff-limbed Abelardo from behind by extending one arm through her legs to rest a hand on her belly and meeting it with his other hand, which reaches down from over her shoulder —a kind of vertical “hug.”

Kennedy Falyn Cassada and Andrea Marcelletti were a delightful duo too, bopping and hopping around with reckless abandon. But then, you couldn’t find anyone in the cast to fault and the solo bows each dancer took at the end were well-rewarded by an enthusiastic audience that leapt to their feet as if they wanted to get in on the action. All I can say is it’s a good thing this company has a healthy crop of new young dancers because this is a piece that requires the energy, stamina, vibrancy and ambition of youth.

It’s a shame that the other two pieces on the program were largely forgotten in the wake of Bond’s choreographic tornado because they were well-performed too, if not with the same gusto. “Lilac Garden,” created in 1936, was as haunting as ever, with the appropriately understated Marijana Dominis as the tortured Caroline, longing for her lover (Samuel Gest) while being forced to accede to the stuffy “Man She Must Marry” (Graziano, with silver-streaked hair). Brooke Wilson was terrific as Graziano’s former lover (whom Tudor called “An Episode in his Past”), just the right combination of haughty and covetous.

As for “Valsinhas,” which opened the program, it suffered in comparison with both of the other works. Graziano originally set this series of waltzes for five men, but the women wanted in too, so now it alternates single-gender casts and opening night was for the girls. With Zara Baroyan, one of the accompanists for the company’s daily classes, playing the on-stage piano, the women (Olivia Dugan, Paige Young, Willa Frantz, Emmanuelle Watkins and apprentice Isabella Damico), bare-legged and dressed in burgundy velvet leotards, executed the perky choreography with flair and a bit of personality. But the repetitiousness of both the music and the choreography — which included a lot of flexed feet and hands and poses with bent knees like someone getting ready to run — made it seem like a student exercise rather than a full-fledged work.

At the risk of bringing attention to a touchy subject, I’d like to make note of one more thing about the new group of female dancers who’ve joined the company this year — though they’re just as fit and athletic as any who’ve gone before, they’re not as painfully thin as many of their predecessors. Whether this is by design or happenstance, it’s a welcome change. After they burn all those calories I no longer feel as if I ought to buy them dinner after the show.

Though, come to think of it, the whole company was deserving of a little reward and restoration after such an exhausting yet triumphant night.

“Notes Unspoken” by The Sarasota Ballet runs through Feb. 2 at the FSU Center for the Performing Arts, 5555 N. Tamiami Trail, Sarasota. $35-$145. sarasotaballet.org; 941-351-0099.