After years of training and being told precisely what to do, it’s not surprising that many dancers have the desire to create their own work. Opportunities for emerging dance makers to stick a toe into the world of choreography have increased in recent years, sometimes with the welcome result of revealing an undiscovered talent. Moreover, for a small company like Azara Ballet, allowing its own dancers to set work on their peers makes sense not only in developing their creative vision, but in cutting the cost of bringing in pieces by more established artists.

“Voices of Azara,” the season opener of the company’s fourth year, showcased new pieces by three dancers who’d not previously presented their own choreography, as well as a fourth work by Azara co-founder Martin Roosaare-Flowers, a seasoned dance maker. Each was ambitious and distinctive, with the newcomers mostly avoiding common first-timer pitfalls of being derivative or unbridled.

“A Study of Connection” by Drew Travis Robinson, explored the vulnerabilities, desperations and rewards involved in discovering, building and sustaining relationships – whether romantic, familial or humanistic. Eight women and two men (Robinson and Roosaare-Flowers), all costumed in wide-legged black pants and an assortment of gray tops, moved to music that ranged from Bobby McFerrin to Yo Yo Ma and Vivaldi, a blue bench on one side of the stage the only prop. The piece was divided into four movements, with each of the first three followed by a brief “interlude” danced by a single dancer (Olivia Huseonica) or a duo (Huseonica and Mackenzie Davis).

The first movement, “Aberrations,” probed a relationship’s beginnings with all its awkward timing and uncertainties; the second, “Onsra” (in the little-spoken Boro language, “to love for the last time”), conversely delved into painful endings. (Tellingly, the bench is turned upside down in this section.)

“Fortitutudo” narrowed the scope to the dependency and volatility of a sibling pairing (danced by Robinson and his real-life partner, Baylie Dockins). The final movement, “Domus” (Latin for house or home) – danced to the words of Carl Sagan’s poem, “The Pale Blue Dot” (inspired by an image taken by astronauts of Earth) – broadened the scope to encompass our universal connection as human beings.

Robinson’s choreographic vocabulary was, like his own dancing, unique, energetic and athletic; he demonstrates and especially keen eye for spatial and movement patterns with large ensembles. Though the relationship or importance of the “interludes” to the whole escaped me, the solo and duets helped regulate a pace that might otherwise have become overwhelming.

Dockins’ “The Painted Girls,” inspired by Edgar Degas paintings of ballerinas, had a distinctly different feel as it explored the darker side of life for female dancers of the Paris Opera ballet in the 19^th century, many of whose careers depended on succumbing to the demands of the “abonnes” (subscribers, or patrons) who supported them financially.

The ballerinas, whose costuming brought Degas’ figures to life, were led by Rianna Talento in the role of a naïve young dancer who comes to accept that her aspirations on stage will be dictated by her willingness to perform behind closed doors. The range of body types in Azara well suited the historical accuracy of a period when ballet did not demand the thinness or extreme leg and neck length too commonly seen today.

The piece begins with the ballerinas in class – wearing pointe shoes and with their hair in neat buns -- stretching on a barre, the very picture of the refined and elegant balletic image. But as it moves through an assortment of music by more than a dozen artists (most of them not household names), it leads to the dancers’ gradual and quite literal “un-doing” thanks to the overbearing presence of the abonnes (Robinson, Evan Arredondo and Erin Decker). At one point, Talento ends up hanging over the barre, upside down from the waist, like a discarded body.

By the end, the ballerinas have shed their pointe shoes and buns, their hair hanging long and disheveled symbolizing their broken ideals and spirits. Though a challenging subject for a first time choreographer to tackle,  Dockins handled the material well, conveying the realities of a dark period in ballet history without histrionics.

“Le Fil Rouge” (“the red thread”), by Mackenzie Davis, was based on the ancient belief that two souls destined to meet are connected by an invisible thread; that is, that fate indeed exists and is an undeniable force.

This was a more contemporary classical work, with four women on pointe  (Sylvie Barreo, Alicia David, Rebecca Kimsey and Decker) in scarlet bodices and briefs representing the red threads and three other couples, representing the destined – though not  necessarily seamless – pairings. A long red ribbon, stretched across the stage at the beginning and reappearing at the end as a “cat’s cradle” interwoven between the couples, gave a literal stamp to the theme, while vivid (red) lighting and fog machines (neither really my thing) were used as accents. Overall – and this was a complaint on most of the evening’s pieces – the lighting was extremely and unnecessarily dark.

Music by Ezio Bozzo and Phillip Glass – the latter, in particular, has become an overused go-to for ballet choreographers – and a plethora of partnering set up unintended comparisons to more famous choreographers, from Twyla Tharp to Jerome Robbins. That’s an impossible standard for any first-time choreographer to match. While Davis’ vocabulary of steps was fluid and the execution by the dancers for the most part skilled, McKenzie’s own creative voice seemed to get lost in the mix. I would have love to see more development of the theme and more risk and novelty in the choreographic vocabulary.

The program concluded with Roosaare’s “Busy Earnin’,” a lively, sarcastic and periodically comical look at our obsession with work and productivity developed over four movements. Music by the British band Jungle provided a contagiously dancey soundtrack, as a large ensemble of more than a dozen dancers – all dressed in black with white ties – began in structured, repetitive and  increasingly frenetic unison, frequently glancing at the watches on their wrists.

In the second movement, we begin to see cracks in the uniformity as Roosaare introduces an element of “Is this all there is?”  and in the third movement, members of two different couples buck the idea of joining the workaholic herd. By the not unexpected finale, the entire ensemble takes a stand against the domination of the clock.

Roosaare is adept at finding the right balance between too little and too much and with managing both large ensemble movement patterns and more intimate pairings. He also has a keen sense of what will appeal to an audience. Unlike many a neophyte choreographer, he keeps a firm hand on his theme, emphasizes accessibility over the esoteric and knows the value of alterations in both pace and tone. His approach invites introspection, but without a heavy-handed moralistic clout.

Though none of these new works were without flaw, they demonstrated the value and importance of giving new voices and visions an opportunity to emerge. Azara is to be commended for continuing to challenge conventional standards, by broadening the idea of who belongs in the ballet world, whether as a dancer or a choreographer.

“Voices of Azara” presented by Azara Ballet. Reviewed Nov. 7 at Riverview Performing Arts Center, 1 Ram Way, Sarasota. Final performance at 2 p.m. Nov. 8. Tickets are $20-$40. azaraballet.org