DANCE REVIEW : L.A. CHAMBER BALLET AT L.A. CENTER

For Los Angeles Chamber Ballet (LACB), 1986 is the year of living dangerously: a year of more diversified programming (for example, a repertory season four months after the full-length “Little Prince”), of an increased community presence (including a local mini-tour), and, alas, of evident artistic growing pains.

The shift from a policy of annual, one-shot showcase events to a genuine company identity has apparently taxed all of LACB’s resources. Two pieces originally announced for its Monday program at Los Angeles Theatre Center were postponed and, more significantly, the two premieres danced that night looked underdone--disappointing compared to their creators’ previous achievements.

Certainly, Raiford Rogers’ new “Stone or Star” scarcely approached his 1985 “Wishes and Turns” (also danced Monday) in artful corps patterning or expressive ingenuity. Indeed, the earlier work contained, in a more refined and developed state, the central idea of “Stone”: a female soloist who became isolated from her dancing colleagues early on and later chose to rejoin them.

In “Stone,” the context was ironic, the theme one of denied expectations. Almost as a wry joke, Rogers used Strauss’ “Blue Danube” as the accompaniment--but kept finding other things for his six-member cast to do than waltz.

But his initial exploration of a supple, free range of upper-torso motion and port de bras soon ended when Lesli Wiesner seemed to rebel against the prevailing synchrony and began to serve as a counterforce. Soon she lured Rocker Verastique into her orbit and “Stone” turned, for a time, into a wry look at attraction-and-pursuit courtship relationships.

The concept of highly individual personalities refusing to observe a pattern of behavior and then establishing one of their own might yield a fine ballet--even a fine mock-waltz ballet. But this one baldly defined some premises, confused others, remained sketchy throughout and reduced both the majestic Wiesner and the dynamic Verastique to smirking ninnies.

Patrick Frantz’s new “Liberty” found each of them executing the sharply etched, eclectic motion-modules with their customary power and technical sophistication.

However, the music--an excerpt from John Adams’ “Harmonielehre”--imposed such apocalyptic implications on the movement that Frantz’s formal group sorties and knotty duets, his gene-spliced idioms (one foot displaying balletic pointed toes and the other flexed, modern-dance style) and bold gestural motifs created major, unresolved thematic questions.

Admittedly, Wiesner can rise on half-toe, point her free-foot skyward and fling her arms wide more heroically than anyone else in local dance--and Verastique can scowl with his entire body. But such portentous dramatics scarcely convey the “celebration of freedom of form, freedom of movement and the freedom of the artist” cited in program notes. To the contrary: They look imposed, regulated.

Disconnected from discernible motivation or context, this kind of dancing comes across as rant: an overload of feeling without a definitive artistic shape. It may be fitfully compelling--as in a passage where the reserved but commanding Kristine Soleri suspended herself across Verastique’s back like a reclining odalisque--but it is never really persuasive or even coherent as an expressive statement.

Sensitively danced by Victoria Koenig, two solos from Earnest Morgan’s familiar “Hawaiian Suite” completed the program.