At a small new theater in a wasteland be tween the Javits Center and Hell’s Kitchen, dance fans are perched on benches for a chance to see a 62-year-old legend up close: Mikhail Baryshnikov.

The ballet great — and movie star — never retired from dancing, he just reinvented himself. Besides acting, he’s spent the past two decades exploring contemporary dance. He founded the Baryshnikov Arts Center in 2005 and opened a theater there in February.

Now “Misha” is teaming up with two other dancers for an evening of six “Unrelated Solos.” Baryshnikov dances three of them, and they all showcase his fluid grace, his puckish humor and his ballet technique.

Benjamin Millepied’s “Years later” is a deft and poignant vehicle for Baryshnikov. He dances with — and confronts — larger-than-life films of himself from “Then” and “Now.” Once, the film of the young Misha was manipulated like a faulty memory into an impossible unending spin.

From Russia with love — and gallows humor — comes Alexei Ratmansky’s “Valse-Fantasie,” inspired by the story behind Russian composer Glinka’s music. The bittersweet vignette tells of a reunion at a party gone awry. Dapper in white pants and black tuxedo jacket, Baryshnikov’s mobile face told the tale like a silent movie comedian.

The choreographer who gives Baryshnikov the most ballet to dance is the modern one, Susan Marshall.

In “For You” (still a work in progress) he leads four audience members to the stage, sits them on folding chairs and dances for them. Their reactions, from chagrin to star-struck awe, are priceless and redefine what it means to watch a performer.

Steve Paxton and David Neumann alternated onstage with Baryshnikov. Paxton is a downtown legend for his improvised dances, but his solo “The Beast” was like watching paint dry.

Neumann looks a bit like Steve Carell and has a similar befuddled sense of humor as a suited Everyman tumbling over chairs. Unlike Paxton, Neumann’s not above performing for an audience; both his solos were ingratiating and funny.

Misha still can dance. Even up close, he still looks smaller than he did on the gigantic stage of the Met. Now and then his posture gets slightly stooped to remind us of his age. There was only a single catlike jump to remind us of his airborne days. But he can still hold an audience in the palm of his hand.