Sometimes, it's refreshing to watch a dance performance where it's simply about watching the dancers move, without any need to worry about possible missed storylines and/or subtext. And Richard Alston Dance Company's performances are just that: Alston's world-famous musicality means an evening of watching his choreographic interpretation of the music.

Richard Alston was one of the featured artists of Dance Umbrella last autumn, and his Richard Alston At Home performances at The Place offered a retrospective of his work from his earliest creations until he joined Rambert Dance Company, later becoming their Artistic Director. The current triple bill seems to continue the same theme, with the first piece of the night, Roughcut, created in 1990 for Rambert Dance Company, and culminating with Alston's latest work, A Ceremony of Carols.

Roughcut was revived last year, and the audience is immediately struck by the buoyancy of the choreography: the dancers truly dance as though springs are attached to their heels, given how much time they spend in the air, whether jumping or joyfully leaping across the stage. Apart from that, Roughcut is less recognisably "Alstonian" than other works, with few of Alston's signature moves, and freer movement. But the innate relationship with the music, performed onstage by Roger Heaton (clarinet) and James Woodrow (guitar), is as vivid as ever.

While there is a strong appeal in having dance performances accompanied by live music, A Ceremony of Carols reminded us of the vagaries of live accompaniment. Nineteen boys aged between 8 and 13 sang Benjamin Britten's A Ceremony of Carols from the rear of the stage - and with the exception of the final few minutes, their voices were significantly out of key. And unfortunately for the dancers valiantly peforming as though nothing was wrong, it was hard to focus on them or even enjoy the performance.

Richard Alston's strength is in creating smaller group sequences; A Ceremony of Carols deviates from this with much of the piece involving all 16 dancers onstage, with a few striking smaller sections, for example a very dynamic duet between Liam Riddick and Nancy Nerantzi, nearly flying across the stage, or a section for the male dancers which was led by Andres de Blust-Mommaerts. In contrast with Roughcut, the dancers were comparatively earthbound, as though to offset the "heavenly" choral and harp accompaniment.

The highlight of the evening was easily Martin Lawrance's Lie Of The Land, which originally premiered at The Place in June 2010. Opening with a very physical solo by Andres de Blust-Mommaerts in dappled lighting and silence, it's immediately evident that Lawrance's voice is distinctively his own, with only fleeting influences of Alston. In contrast with Steve Reich's repetitive music for Roughcut, the music for this piece is Ned Rorem's String Quartet which is immediately frenetic and infects the dancers and choreography accordingly.

Lie of the Land is more personality-driven than Alston's works, with the characters of the dancers strongly felt, and it's in this piece that we see the dancers at their best: a dramatic solo by Liam Riddick is accentuated by low lighting, while the most beautiful moment of the evening is Andres de Blust-Mommaerts dancing alone and dimly-lit.