Eclecticism is troupe’s anniversary party line

To celebrate its 25th anniversary, the Lula Washington Dance Theatre took a step up at the John Anson Ford Amphitheatre on Saturday.

Building on Washington’s career-long commitment to black dance pioneers, the company presented a constellation of major choreographers, looking less like a locally based troupe driven by a single dance-maker than an eclectic modern dance repertory ensemble very much in the tradition of the Alvin Ailey company.

Ailey, of course, could hold his own against the works by master choreographers in his rep, but Washington functions more like Gerald Arpino in the heyday of the Joffrey Ballet: someone who creates works especially for the dancers on the roster, often exploring promising topics but with a tendency to beat concepts to death.

On Saturday, her most varied and exciting creation was “Spontaneous Combustion,” mostly a string of solos improvised by company members to invigorating live jazz by the Marcus L. Miller Band.

Her new “For Those Who Live and Die For Us” (music by Daniel Bernard Roumaine) paid tribute to American soldiers by recontextualizing group calisthenics, every so often punctuating them with pieta poses and other images of suffering. Roughly danced, it looked at once heartfelt and insufficient, a preliminary idea without the authentic moves it needed to make it truly creative. Washington’s overlong comic duet “01997-8” (music by Bob Dale) used a quasi-competitive context to display the spectacular technical skills of Tai Jimenez and Ramon Thielen, both refugees from the inactive Dance Theatre of Harlem. But Jimenez’s moody, improvisational pointe solo “Barre” (music by Arvo Part) traced a deeper connection to classical tradition.

Former company dancer Jeremiah Tatum took troops of kids from Washington’s summer dance program and came up with a sassy exercise called “Boot Camp” to a Missy Elliott recording. And Washington’s daughter, Tamica Washington-Miller, contributed “Thanks and Praises,” a breezy jazz-dance showpiece (music by Jimmy Smith) that fell prey to technical lapses on a stage that had grown dangerously slippery from nighttime condensation.

But the major artistic chops of the nearly three-hour event belonged to works by Rudy Perez, Donald McKayle and Louis Johnson, distinguished artists who work on a plateau way beyond mere facility or professionalism.

Perez’s postmodern quintet “Shifts” (music by Lloyd Rodgers and Steve Moshier) grew from the simplest walking steps and leaning poses into complex jumping sequences, forward and back, plus long-held balances in extension. It also commented on audiences’ fascination with technique by having four of the dancers sprawl on folding chairs -- always in leaning positions -- while the fifth soloed center-stage.

Performed with great purity by guest dancer Stephanie Powell, the mercurial solo “I’ve Known Rivers” (music by Margaret Bonds) found McKayle remembering the late dancer-choreographer Pearl Primus by using a text that had inspired one of her seminal works more than 60 years ago. A celebration of black resilience, it traced a journey from the majestic to the whimsical -- in all of four minutes.

Johnson’s “Duet for Noel Pointer” (music by Pointer) made lyrical paragons of Rocklin Thompson, who sometimes seemed uncomfortable in other pieces, and April Thomas Wilkins, who seemed faultless in everything but especially commanding here.

In Christopher Huggins’ “On the Edge,” she had brought volcanic integrity to a duet that alternated passages of formula modernism with outbursts of raw emotion. These juxtapositions left the skillful Tommie-Waheed Evans looking dazed and out of it, while the piece itself ended up making a curious statement about dance -- as if it’s something you do when you’re not really living your life.

Besides welcoming the audience, correcting the printed program and soliciting applause, Washington danced briefly in “Saint Mongo,” a salute to company alumni that also featured the Miller musicians. She had ample reason to strut and blow kisses: Surviving 25 years in Los Angeles as artist, activist, teacher and role model beats the odds -- and planning 25 more makes dancing on a slippery stage a comparative breeze.