It’s been 16 years since Martha Graham died, but even so, she was the star of her company’s opening night at the Joyce Theater on Tuesday evening.

Her choreography grew out of her physical and affective attributes — and so profoundly did she interpret those attributes that her presence is felt at any performance of her repertory. On Tuesday, there was also a video representation of Graham — courtesy of the world premiere of “Lamentation Variations.” The new piece begins with brief 1932 footage in primitive, two-strip color of Graham dancing “Lamentation,” one of the solos with which she began her choreographic career. Her body is an enthralling relief map, simultaneously or consecutively concave and angular. “Lamentation Variations” continued with performances audience into a mirror in which the dancers stared and twitched. They reminded me of the inert high society pictured in Bunuel’s “The Exterminating Angel.” Nothing, however, could top Graham herself.

“Embattled Garden,” created in 1958, followed “Lamentation Variations,” with words by James Lipton. By the late 1950s, Graham was in her seventh decade and no longer the central protagonist in her new choreography — though she would go on to dance for another decade. A shift in perspective had occurred by which she seemed to be sitting back and observing, with some degree of detachment, both her own persona and the affairs of men and women. There is sometimes a conscious or unconscious note of self-parody to her works of these years.

In Tuesday’s performance of “Embattled Garden,” trouble in paradise was brewed by Maurizio Nardi’s snake-like Stranger and Carrie Ellmore-Tallitsch’s Lilith, as they attempted to sow discord between Jenifer DePalo’s Eve and David Zurak’s Adam. “Embattled Garden” is billed as a comedy, yet it’s hardly a laugh fest — more sly, cynical, and mischievous. It’s also disconcertingly domestic amidst the balance of the Graham canon and sensibility. Isamu Noguchi’s toothsome designs seem rather chic and contemporary. The two couples might be meeting at the Four Seasons, and Doris Day and Rock Hudson might make an appearance. At times there’s a literal edge to these battles of the sexes, but there’s also a larger truth to their response to each other when tainted by experience and their restoration of an imperfect comity. All four leads danced very well.

Following an intermission came “Night Journey,” which Graham choreographed a decade before “Embattled Garden.” “Night Jouney” epitomizes her interest in Greek mythology, as well as the performance stylization of Asian theater. Graham’s Queen Jocasta consummates the choreographer’s affinity for queens of mythology and ancient drama. Their love affairs — often with mysterious strangers — begin with the promise of deliverance but implode disastrously.

Elizabeth Auclair, by height and temperament, was not the most majestic Jocasta, and yet there’s no denying that this queen, too, is blushing bride; there was a maidenly innocence to all of Graham’s heroines preserved throughout their immersion into erotic gymnastics. “Night Journey” suffered from the absence of Kenneth Topping, who in the past several Graham seasons has been perfect as Oedipus and similar roles in the Graham oeuvre. Tadej Brdnik is more tentative; Mr. Brdnik matched Ms. Auclair in size, but he seemed conscious that he is not the tall bristling conqueror that Graham envisioned. To his credit, he also seemed equally conscious that he didn’t want to let the role turn into the stereotype it could become. Both dancers could further develop their own interpretation and rapport, while Mr. Nardi could have brought more implacable weight to Tiresias. Blakeley White-McGuire was good as the Leader of the “Daughters of the Night,” an ensemble of women who seem to embody the traditional Greek chorus, as well, sometimes, as a pack of Furies demanding justice. New York hasn’t seen the Graham company since its one-night gala at Skirball Center in spring 2006. It was a pleasure to be reacquainted with this unique repertory and realm of theatricality.