BIG SHOES TO FILL ALVIN AILEY'S SUCCESSOR TRIES HER BEST TO LIVE UP TO HIS LEGACY.

Byline: Evan Henerson Staff Writer

Once she figures out how to master the technology, Judith Jamison hopes to bring dance pioneer Alvin Ailey back from the dead.

No, not literally. All you mediums, don't start reaching for the phone.

``The point is never to erase the live, ever, but to bring the technology up to enhance what is real to us,'' says Jamison, artistic director of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, which visits the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion for a six-performance engagement beginning Wednesday.

``For our 40th anniversary, I wanted Alvin holographically or something to be in the lobby walking right past you, and I think that's possible. It's just that people aren't ready with the technology to set it up without taking 10 days or something. But I think it's possible and I'm interested in those kind of things.''

The idea comes from the same artistic impulse that has prompted Jamison to stick palm-size video cameras in the hands of her dancers for the ballet ``Double Exposure'' and to ask an audience to simultaneously watch the dancers and the images they're recording played back on 20-foot screens. (It would have been 30-foot screens, Jamison explains, except screens of that size couldn't easily be loaded into the theater.)

It's these types of artistic risks that Jamison says the leader of the venerable company like AAADT isn't supposed to take. And she's taking them anyway.

``I'm going to take as many chances as I possibly can,'' says Jamison. ``Otherwise what am I doing here?''

Some might argue that her ability to bring Ailey, who died in 1989, back into the theater - holographically or otherwise - is beside the point. The company's founder lives through Jamison, Ailey's hand-picked successor, and through his signature dances like ``Pas de Duke,'' ``Phases'' and ``Blues Suite'' - all of which will be performed during the Dorothy Chandler engagement.

And he lives through the dancers who, Jamison says, are brought along with the Ailey philosophy: Work your guts out and keep it real. It's not about how high you can jump or sustain balance. Any skilled dancer can accomplish those kinds of feats.

``I have dancers who understand their responsibility as artists, that they have to come on stage as whole people, not as robots doing steps,'' says Jamison. ``You can't get out on stage in anything for me, unless you're being absolutely honest. That doesn't have to be taught; I can tell that as soon as you walk in the door.''

``I love my dancers,'' she adds. ``They could dance the telephone book, and it wouldn't matter. There are pieces that celebrate the black experience in the modern dance expression, and that's exactly what the company is supposed to be about.''

At 58, her gray hair pulled into a bun, Jamison's regal bearing is tempered by a quick and very salty wit. Mid-interview, she'll bark out an order to keep the noise down in an adjacent room or caution a photographer against taking a candid shot. (``The White House sent me one from the last Kennedy Center Awards,'' she says. ``The president and I look like we're electrocuting each other.'')

Jamison joined the Ailey company in 1965 and remained with the company for 15 years. She was the inspiration for ``Cry,'' Ailey's most well-known solo piece.

Generous and plain-spoken, Jamison is serious when it comes to maintaining the Ailey legacy. Asked how the founder would have reacted to technical innovations, Jamison shrugs and smiles.

``I think he'd be happy about everything that's going on. Otherwise, I think a big hammer would have fallen on my head by now,'' she says.

What was once merely the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater is fast becoming the Ailey Empire. In addition to the main company and its spinoff Ailey II, there's the Ailey School - a training facility - and the multicity Aileycamps serving underprivileged children ages 11 to 14.

Although this the main company's first visit to Southern California in two years, it's not as though Jamison and company spend a lot of time holed up in Manhattan, where the company is based. With a repertory of 180 ballets, AAADT tours more than any dance company in the country.

Which is why, on a rainy Monday at the Music Center offices a few weeks before the Wednesday night opening, Jamison turns to her notes to recall exactly what program the company is bringing to Los Angeles. Programs are booked so far in advance, she explains, that she can't keep every city's program straight.

Five of the ballets will be Southern California premieres, including Jamison's ``Double Exposure,'' Dwight Rhoden's ``Chocolate Sessions,'' Ronald K. Brown's ``Grace,'' Alonzo King's ``Following the Subtle Current Upstream'' and Carmen de Lavallade's ``Sweet Bitter Love.''

``Revelations,'' the company's signature piece created and choreographed by Ailey, will close each show. Many dancers new to the company consider the piece their initiation, says Jamison.

Jamison is particularly pleased to have de Lavallade, another legend, choreographing a ballet for the company. It was de Lavallade, a former high school classmate of Ailey's, who brought the dancer to the Lester Horton School of Dance in Los Angeles.

``This woman was my icon, because I grew up watching her when I was a child,'' Jamison said of de Lavallade. ``Alvin literally started dancing here in L.A., and she was responsible for his first class. That she hadn't done a work for us was phenomenal to me.''

Inspired by a Roberta Flack song, ``Sweet Bitter Love'' delves into the breakup of a man and a woman who - despite being good people - have to break up. De Lavallade had choreographed the piece several years ago for a female dancer but revamped it to include the male point of view.

``No jerks on stage. This is not about jerks or whiny ladies,'' said de Lavallade, also an actress who has appeared in the films ``Lone Star'' and ``Big Daddy.'' ``These are two lovely people who have to break up for whatever reason, and, to me, that is a tragedy.''

A longtime admirer of the company and its work under both Ailey and Jamison, de Lavallade says the two administrators were quite different.

``Judy is very good with business,'' she said. ``That wasn't Alvin's thing. He just wanted to do the creative part.''

``ALVIN AILEY AMERICAN DANCE THEATER''

Where: Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave., Los Angeles.

When: 8 p.m. Wednesday through Saturday, 3 p.m. Sunday.

Tickets: $15 to $75. Call [phone].

CAPTION(S):

4 photos

Photo: (1) Judith Jamison feels that Alvin Ailey must be happy with the job she's doing: ``Otherwise, I think a big hammer would have fallen on my head by now.''

Charlotte Schmid-Maybach/Staff Photographer

(2) ``Revelations''

(3) ``Blues Suite''

(4) ``Double Exposure''