Bypassing for a moment the observation that Pearl Primus, a big-bodied, strong, supple woman, is a perfectly lovely dancer, I must also note that her performance last night was just the slightest bit disappointing. Her demonstration class at Radcliffe yesterday afternoon, by comparison, was continuously compelling and satisfying; she seemed more at case, more smiling, more dignified, as she began to explain African dancing. Perhaps an audience of dancers is inherently more open to inspiration; and, of course, it is more thrilling to see a class of perhaps 75 dancers attempt a warrior-dance or a festal dance than to see one woman perform "fragments" of tribal dances, fragments unnecessarily brief.

A second problem is that African dance movements draw their significance from their culture. It is fascinating to learn that fertility dances are performed not only to innduce plant and animal procreation, but to bring fertile thoughts to a chief in making an important decision: but knowledge still leaves an audience a good distance from feeling. One way Miss Primus drew her audience closer was to have them sing the antiphonal chant for her last piece, the conga; and others of her dances, like the jivey "high-life," include the audience by sheer force of exuberance.

Contemporary dance in America is nervously proud of its nouveau status as a performing art, while tribal dances naturally emphasize somewhat more their symbolic purpose, or their practical aim of enhancing war or celebration. But when these dances come to the stage, performers should attend to what looks good, and not only to what feels good. Every dance, but especially a simple one, depends for its effect on subtlety that is perceptible. But at the same time, a dance should hold more subtlety than the audience can quite see. The tension of discovering more, of penetrating the arcane, creates the experience of excitement. Here again Miss Primus' class was more successful, since her teaching added each new complication step by step, until they became literally over-whelming.

Even so many complaints do not add up to saying that Miss Primus' performance was poor; complaints only reflect regret that it was not so near perfection as it might have been. Moreover, the great strength and depth of this performer leave us unsatisfied in another way; we want to see more of her, and we would like to see a company trained by her in the dances that really require a group of many performers.