“Lines of Loss,” which had its world premiere Friday, the opening night of the Paul Taylor Dance Company’s two-and-a-half-week City Center season, is unmistakably a work by Mr. Taylor, written in the muscular, expressive dance language he has been refining for more than half a century.

It’s surprising then, that “Lines of Loss” has so many startling moments. Mr. Taylor’s trademark muscular tension — which has given us so many distinctive shapes in the past — produces a stark new one: a woman in extremis, her back to us, her knees bent deep. She bends her back at an impossible angle, her face and neck reaching toward us. And his fondness for diagonals asserts itself in a shocking final image: a line of intertwined bodies, swathed in blood-red fabric, slowly sinking to the ground to form a vivid diagonal streak.

“Lines of Loss” is, as the title suggests, a meditation on loss in many forms. In one of its nine sections, a creaky, tremulous old man (portrayed by Michael Trusnovec) shambles around a small area of the stage. In another, pairs of friends skip onstage arm in arm, but the mood doesn’t last; soon, they’re shoving one another around, hard. In a third section, a man and woman begin by leaning against each other for support, but they can’t seem to fit their bodies together; they walk off in opposite directions, each blowing a farewell kiss across the divide.

A melancholic mood is set right away by the music, a series of cuts from the Kronos Quartet album “Early Music” that covers several centuries but feels continuous in its austere, somber beauty. Jennifer Tipton’s artful lighting — often as dim as the light in an ancient stone chapel — adds a solemn aura to the proceedings. A striking giant backdrop (by Santo Loquasto), made of irregular black threads woven horizontally through a piece of dull white fabric, looms behind the dancers, large and immovable as fate.

Only the costumes — skintight white bodysuits (with skirts for the women), also by Mr. Loquasto — feel out of character. They are too contemporary to rest easily with the ancient music, and too far from street clothes to feel compatible with the fundamental human experiences being sketched by the dancers. Still, the white color allows the dancers to be seen clearly in Ms. Tipton’s lighting.

The dancing, however, is so arresting that costumes are quickly forgotten. The intensity of the movement demands attention, particularly in the female solo that is performed (with slight variation) first by Lisa Viola and later by Annmaria Mazzini. The solo’s deep backbends, hunched postures, and sharp hand gestures look different on the two dancers, but both are superb: Ms. Viola exudes palpable anguish, Ms. Mazzini dances with both sorrow and fire.

As is so often the case in Mr. Taylor’s work, these solos and duets emerge seamlessly from the ensemble dancing. In “Lines of Loss,” Mr. Taylor arrays the ensemble in deliberately geometric patterns: moving circles, static lines. (In one memorable image, a quick-flowing circle of dancers was seen entirely in silhouette.) The formalism of these patterns is almost a visual echo of the structured, restrained music.

“Lines of Loss” is an intimate piece of theater. There is a sense of Mr. Taylor speaking directly, in a voice that is less guarded than his often is. The nakedness of the grief, the refusal to hide behind steps, the willingness to risk movements that have become clichéd (wiping a tear, blowing a kiss) — feels quite brave.

Yet for all its original, poignant movement and its affecting characters, there is something unfinished about “Lines of Loss.” The finale (in which the blood-red diagonal line collapses) feels abrupt. Having gone so deep into the country of grief, Mr. Taylor makes an unexpectedly hasty exit.

The evening, which also included revivals of “Roses” and the everpopular “Company B,” was also notable for two New York debuts. Laura Halzack’s silky, lovely phrases drew the eye in “Roses,” while Francisco Graciano’s compact, precise contractions and showmanship made him a delightful soloist in the “Tico-Tico” number from “Company B.”

Until March 18 (West 55th Street, between Sixth and Seventh avenues, 212-581-1212).