MUSIC AND DANCE REVIEWS : ‘BLACK BALLET JAZZ’

From Pearl Primus and Katherine Dunham to Alvin Ailey, Donald McKayle and beyond, choreographers depicting the American black experience have insisted that outsiders recognize the dignity and spirituality in even the most celebratory black dance styles. They have demanded our respect--not just for themselves but for their heritage most of all.

For Chester Whitmore, however, all the mindless eye-rolling, audience-courting, happy-peasant cliches of yore are evidently worth reviving as much as the Hambone, Walkin’ the Dog and Huckle Buck.

Certainly Whitmore’s “Black Ballet Jazz” program, Saturday in the outdoor amphitheater of Santa Monica College, seemed just a teeny step away from the defamatory excesses of “All God’s Chillun Got Rhythm” and other past sins of the white show-business Establishment. But Whitmore (who directed and choreographed) isn’t white.

Allegedly conceived for export (this is the “Second World Touring Edition,” according to the program), “Black Ballet Jazz” reduced more than a century and a half of black culture to a relentlessly upbeat, nightclub-style dance revue.

With a few exceptions (notably the men’s easygoing patting-juba trio and a show-stopping break- dance competition duet), the 14 members of the technically uneven company spent the evening locked into hard-sell unison routines that destroyed any sense of social context in what they were dancing.

Instead of conveying a sense of individuals dancing for their own pleasure, they simply seemed an overtaxed black corps straining to merchandise each and every step, saucy moue and yelp of feigned delight. And for whom?

Whitmore’s choreography ranged from competent pastiche (the jazzy Charleston) to appalling rip-off (the Aileyesque “His Eye Is on the Sparrow”), with his tacky version of the Black Bottom (with the men in briefs, the women in chorine outfits and everyone in feathered masks) showing how far he was willing to distort his sources for the sake of a cheap thrill.

His own solos displayed his eccentric, unpredictable style and exciting technical expertise. As a dancer, he is spectacularly talented. However his endless comic lip-synching of pop records in Act 2 (a task also assigned his company members in an “Apollo Years” medley) confirmed the impression that his intelligence and taste are pretty juvenile at present.

Giving the program a needed touch of sophistication and genuine soul, William Carter’s California Jubilee Singers appeared as guest artists to sing spirituals and a Duke Ellington medley. The traditional religious songs had strength but no false fervor, and the classy, intimate interpretation of “Satin Doll” positively glowed.