To have attended the Paul Taylor Dance Company’s month-long spring season at City Center night after night—six different programs, each comprising three ballets—was to be overwhelmed by the scope of one man’s creative imagination. But if Taylor’s dances sometimes suggest the machinations of a wild and crazy guy, his almost folksy manner, as glimpsed on a recent PBS “Dance in America” broadcast, belies it. His commentary, laconic and deceptively casual, provided some tantalizing insights into the working methods and aesthetics of this remarkable artist.

Taking us on a tour of the property that surrounds his country home on Long Island’s North Fork, he pointed out some of the construction projects he’s set himself, using driftwood and other objects that have washed up on the shore: a stairway leading down from his house to the beach; a gazebo; a shack he calls “the little house.” Of the last he noted, “In making it, it was a little like making a dance—that is, I decided a few rules about it.” For instance, he wouldn’t spend any money—even the nails were pried from used lumber—and he wouldn’t measure anything.

Returning inside, he showed us his collection of rocks and shells, and a flock of local butterflies he had caught that now lay pinned under a glass table top. He spoke of his affinity for nature and of the “consolation” he derived from the symbiotic relationship between a certain type of beetle and the mimosa tree it fed off each spring.