SAVED AND RICHLY SPENT.

SAVED AND RICHLY SPENT PASCAL RIOULT DANCE THEATRE THE DUKE ON 42ND STREET NEW YORK, NEW YORK JANUARY 2-7, 2001

It's been only about eight years since Pascal Rioult and Joyce Herring formed the Pascal Rioult Dance Theatre. The time has been richly spent. There has been a steadfast concentration on craftsmanship in Rioult's choreography, which forms the repertoire of this attractive nine-member (plus two understudies) ensemble.

Although the major portion of Rioult's performing career was in the Martha Graham Dance Company, he has shucked the Graham influence. There were references to other choreographers, notably Anna Sokolow, Margie Gillis and Paul Taylor, but these were allusions, rather than influences; and they in no way hampered Rioult's individuality.

He is very taken with the music of Maurice Ravel and this year has added Passagere (Passerby) to a contemplated evening-long Ravel suite. Set to Alborada del Gracioso and Pavane for a Dead Princess, it is a dance of isolation and extreme vulnerability, with Herring pitted against a group. At one point, all except Herring donned commedia dell'arte masks that created a menacing, surreal atmosphere, as though Herring were on the brink of madness.

Although performed first, Passagere seemed like an extension of Wien, which followed. Wien had even more impact than its forerunner. The whiplike momentum between its clustered dancers and the individuals, who fell away and were sucked back, was absolutely riveting. Sokolow often used this contrasting action, but the effect was static, while Rioult's people, impelled by Ravel's La Valse, sped like dry leaves in a deserted windy alley.

She's not Piaf. There is only one Piaf. But singer Juliette Koka does a remarkable impersonation of the chanteuse, and Rioult used her resourcefully in La Vie en Rose, a suite of nine dances to Piaf songs. At first, Koka appeared almost mysteriously on a catwalk above the performing area. Below, a modest cabaret setting, accentuated by live musicians, harbored ordinary people with extraordinary souls.

In "L'Etranger," two strangers at separate tables imagined themselves in an affair. They undressed and disappeared behind an overturned table. She emerged, gathered up their discarded attire and walked off alone, leaving behind a lifetime in that brief encounter.

Male pride sparked Rioult's solo, "Le Droit d'Aimer"; there was a tough music-hall look in "Mon Dieu" as Marianna Tsartolia flew between Brian Flynn and Craig Biesecker. The wistfully gutsy strains of "L'Accordeoniste" accompanied an extraordinary dancer named Penelope Gonzalez in the dance of the same name. As her despairing arms slashed the empty air, Rioult watched from above and in "Hymne a l'Amour," gently tamed her.

A playful group conclusion inspired the audience to unison clapping. They had experienced a program of passionate choreography, polished performing led by Joyce Herring and quality collaboration from rehearsal director Linda Hodes, costume designers Russ Vogler and Ellen Berkenblit and lighting designer David Finley.