Israeli artists and international touring can be a tense combination. Consider Batsheva Dance Company's first appearance at the Edinburgh International Festival. The second of the troupe's three performances was attended by potential political drama. Following disruptions by Scottish pro-Palestinians at that morning's concert by the Jerusalem Quartet, extra security was quickly laid on at the Playhouse. In the end nothing happened. Apart, that is, from the blazing performance delivered by Ohad Naharin's exceptionally disciplined troupe of 22 dancers.

A pick-and-mix of works dating from 1993 right up to 2007, Deca Dance 2008 was an intriguing example of Naharin's continuing interest in choreographic collage. (Created in 2000, the original version marked his tenth anniversary as Batsheva's artistic director). He has a knack for big, boldly physicalised imagery whether the stage is occupied by two dancers - as in a fittingly weird, spasmodic female duet to a synthesized recording of Bolero - or the entire swarming ensemble. They are the expert exponents of an earthy, full-bodied and often explosive movement language, playfully dubbed gaga, that he has developed over the years.

Naharin's choreography lays an ironic appreciation of social dance and showbiz kitsch over something heavier, deeper and more confrontational. The Festival public found the audience participation, in which dancers in natty dark suits escort 17 punters onstage for a kind of cha-cha rave, uproariously entertaining. It was fun, but other segments were far more revealing. My early impression of the evening as a cabaret-style string of artfully compiled but disconnected dances gradually gave way to a meatier idea: Deca Dance is a mosaic-in-motion of aspects of the Israeli people - tribal, feisty, passionate and possibly internally torn.

At the start of this musically eclectic show, 11 dancers in two-toned unitards individually writhed and slid before beating the air with their fists in a collective convulsion. Later 17 dancers, again in dark suits, repeatedly erupted in a wave (brilliantly timed) from out of an arc of chairs. The second act drew out other tones and colours: a sensual male duet (one to rival - and surpass in complexity - Matthew Bourne's Dorian Gray couplings), a mesmerising unison dance for nine women and a passage in which three separate queues of people danced, simultaneously and in turn, as if at a border crossing. It will be interesting to see what the company does in the two productions it is bringing to the Dance Umbrella festival in October.

Batsheva Dance Company is at Sadler's Wells, EC1 (0844 8710090), Oct 20-21, and at Riverside Studios, W6 (020-8237 1111), Oct 22-25