Edition: U.S. / Global

DANCE: THIS WEEK -- Legacies, and the Artists Who Escape Them; 'Gypsy Spirit': Not Afraid to Be Fiery

Published: March 21, 2004

LIKE many folkloric showcases, ''Gypsy Spirit: Journey of the Roma,'' which will be presented tomorrow at Symphony Space in Manhattan, purports to correct history, then abandons that ambition in the interest of putting on a good show. The program notes glance at the centuries of oppression the Gypsies, or Roma, have endured, and the stereotypes with which they have been branded. And then it goes on to celebrate what it calls the ''fiery'' Gypsy spirit.

Though the opening number establishes the Roma's origins in India, what follows is more a collection of regional specialties than the journey promised by the program's title. Except for projected slides of actual elderly Roma, the group is treated less as an ethnicity than as a mythic people. A legend, related in voiceover, explains how they were once birds who grew too fat to fly.

Just as well. The performers and their art are the story here. The music of Kalman Balogh and the Gypsy Cimbalom Band serves as a kind of prism, reflecting both the influences the Roma have absorbed and those they've exerted. Mostly Central and Eastern European in origin, the songs have Turkish tints, flamenco accents. A sobbing clarinet suggests klezmer, then the band veers into the Hot Club jazz of Django Reinhardt. A jug someone plays sounds like a tabla, and we're back in India again.

The musicians are virtuosos, especially Mr. Balogh, who plays his cimbalom, or hammered dulcimer, with Art Tatum-like dexterity. (It's a rather bulky instrument for a traditionally nomadic people.) And they like to show off. The clarinetist gradually disassembles his instrument while playing it, ending up squawking through the reed. The violinist, eyebrows flapping wildly, conjures a bird song, a police siren, the theme from the ''Pink Panther.''

The dancers of the Budapest Dance Ensemble are show-offs, too -- at least the men are. In fedoras and boots, they kick up their heels and slap their chests, thighs and shins in a rhythmic frenzy of seeming self-abuse. The women don't have much to do except twirl in their bright skirts. Even in the partner dancing, it's the men who have all the improvised embellishments. They do the shimmy.

Amid all the raucous fun, the ancient ''Dance of the Fox'' stands out. Two men, on hands and knees, pass a hat with their teeth, the older fox teaching the younger how to survive. The spectacle is at once silly and touching. The foxes are the stuff of legend; the artistry is real. BRIAN SEIBERT

Photo: The Budapest Dance Ensemble is in a showcase of Roma arts. (Photo by 'Gypsy Spirit')