Diavolo Dance Theater.

SCHOENBERG HALL, UCLA CENTER FOR THE PERFORMING ARTS, LOS ANGELES FEBRUARY 15-16, 1997

Jacques Heim does not forsake his French origins. That's why the mastermind of Diavolo Dance Theater, a collaborative group that has won many honors in its five years, can avoid the deadly mechanistic formalism of such practitioners as Mehmet Sander and Elizabeth Streb. Whimsy is the key, the element Heim infuses into his gymnast's mix, along with the darker undercurrents of human behavior.

But Tete en I'Air, one in a three-part series, remains the purest example of Heim's imaginative flair, integrity, and focus. Perhaps even more important, this "head in the clouds" epic suggests the power of an unstoppable dream. With its central staircase, smoke and light spilling mysteriously from the top, and all of humanity seeming to tumble inexorably down the steps, the milieu is surreal, while the state of transit becomes synonymous with life as we know it.

The humor, designed not for laughs but still simpatico, actually shows a certain affection for our manic mode of going places and rushing to get there. So, as the travelers who carry valises gradually pick up the pace, become more frantic and bound, leap, and cavort on the stairs, it's both natural and funny to see them lug skis, bikes, et cetera, and even to roll down in a horizontal stack of tires, or snowboard as if on a slope. The person becomes the thing and vice versa, which makes the piece provocative, original, and entertaining.

Elsewhere on the program Heim employs the same metaphors--valises are prime props; men's gray suits serve as unisex costumes--but Tetes a Claque, or "Variations on a Door," adds another notion: doors as barriers between people, doors as secret keepers, doors as areas of collision. Again, we see wayward traffic, frenzied comings and goings. If only the themes would stay on track instead of ranging randomly far afield to accommodate mere physical curiosities, as with a sexily acrobatic Megan Godfrey who positions herself in every conceivable way around a door frame, or the borrowing from Pilobolus of a double-decker body with a single pair of legs.

Tete au Carre seems to take its title from the clever basketball combat between a man [Helm) and a woman (Monique Sobolewski) and a "ball" (Jeremy Jacobs) whose orange-stockinged head impersonates a dribble (really!). Otherwise the main ensemble business is conducted on a metal jungle gym and smacks of deja vu. An electronic drone of a score alternates with a rhythmic pulse throughout, astutely creating drama and propulsion even when none exists. Interim fun and games (yes, they're whimsical) bring the program in at nearly three hours--overlong for most tastes.

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