DANCE REVIEW : A TASTE OF BROADWAY AT ROYCE

Lee Theodore formed her American Dancemachine company 10 years ago as a cultural reclamation project: an attempt to reconstruct and preserve the popular, acclaimed but highly perishable dance numbers from Broadway musicals.

However, on the 17-part Dancemachine program Friday in Royce Hall, UCLA, many of Theodore’s “rescued” choreographies were themselves reclaiming an even older pop heritage: the rich, vibrant tradition of social dancing.

Here were the Cakewalk, Charleston, Shim-Sham-Shimmy and Susy-Q, plus a whole anthology of ballroom styles in Patricia Birch’s “Charlie’s Place” number from “Over Here” and Donald Saddler’s “You Can Dance With Any Girl at All” duet from the 1971 revival of “No, No, Nanette.”

Here, too, were evocations of vintage tap, sand-dance, clog-dance and even the highland fling--folk idioms long before they were adapted for theatrical use.

Beyond mere nostalgia, these idioms and the social-dance styles proved intriguing in their Broadway versions for both formal and technical values as well as conveying exactly why a particular dance had come into being. More than mere exhibitionism, the Jitterbug sprang from the gotta-cut-loose impulse of a specific time and circumstance; lightly, even parodically, Birch retained the context along with the familiar gymnastics.

Of course, much of the program offered dancing that depicted character (Agnes de Mille’s “Funeral Dance,” a study in rage and resignation from “Brigadoon”) or situation (Ron Field’s “Telephone Dance,” a satiric look at sexual consumerism from “Cabaret”) or simply showcased performer skill (Joe Layton’s “Popularity,” a whimsical display of muscular isolation from “George M!”).

Theodore imposed no chronological or thematic plan on this program of tidbits, though the black- and-white costumes used throughout did give nearly everything the look of photos from old souvenir programs: Broadway artifacts.

Thus the evening proceeded as a kind of browse through Theodore’s collection--with dancers supplying spoken captions along the way and ‘30s tap veteran Harold Cromer venturing a separate-but-more-than-equal survey of black vernacular dance midway through.

Often swamped by an overamplified five-member band that performed behind a scrim upstage, the singing counted for next to nothing Friday, and the dancing as a whole had more energy and willingness-to-please than genuine style. No matter: In performances not far above workshop level, the invention and craftsmanship of Tommy Tune, Carol Haney, Katherine Dunham, Michael Kidd and others remained potent.

Finally, if Theodore had done nothing more than remind us of De Mille’s Broadway artistry--in sequences from “Carousel” and “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” besides the generous “Brigadoon” excerpts--American Dancemachine would still have represented an important opening to the ‘85-’86 “Art of Dance” series at UCLA.