The North Carolina Dance Theater's second and final program here confirmed that it, like so many other dance companies, is still in search of a repertory. The company tries. Each of the four works presented last night at the Kennedy Center's Terrace Theater was by an established choreographer, but, except for George Balanchine's lovely ''Allegro Brillante,'' each was more serviceable than inspired.
Bill Evans' "Chartered Flight" was the most interesting of the non-Balanchine works. Evans' choreography, for three couples and a male soloist, explores the effects of inertia. The dancers rock back and forth, impelled by their own weight. They fall and are caught by others who in turn fall and are caught. They quiver and shake and generally ignore each other during the entire proceeding.
They're not human. They may be penguins. (The score is taken from a work by Simon Jeffes called "The Penguin Cafe," and the dancers sometimes stand with their feet locked together and try to waddle.) They may just be unspecific creatures. The central character, a man ignored by his peers and complacent about it, was danced beautifully and impassively by Edward Campbell.
The title is enigmatic. There is little flight imagery in the work, although for a brief moment one could imagine that the male soloist is a pilot and the three couples are his passengers. The moment passes quickly; the ballet does not, which is its main problem. Evan states and explores his theme during the first third of the work. The rest is repetition, although repetition is not its point. "Chartered Flight" could be an amusement concocted by voyagers on a flight so long they couldn't bear to use a regularly scheduled airline.
Associate Director Salvatore Aiello's "Clowns and Others" was the program's comic relief. It's a work designed to show off each of its 14 dancers and, while fast-paced and clever, it's so cute that watching it is akin to downing a quart of Cool Whip. The dancers wear funny hats, ruffled collars, short pants and anything else an unimaginative grown-up would wear to a New Year's Eve baby competition.
There's a pas de deux for a tall girl and a demented, sex-crazed short boy; a battle over a balloon; a segment for a nasty tease of a little girl with an all-day sucker who won't share; and other parodies of children and childhood. Toward the end, the ballet tries to be meaningful. A masked girl dances with a boy who pulls off her mask to reveal--another mask. To Aiello's credit, each vignette is done with such economy that none in itself is objectionable, but the overall effect is cloyingly trite.
The program's finale, Lambros Lambrou's "A Night in the Tropics" to music by Gottschalk and Gould, takes place in a land that can be found only in ballet. All the balleto-Spanish cliche's are dragged out--proud carriage; skirts slit to reveal thrust out legs that end in daggerlike pointes; aggressive passion; fingers lusting for castanets. All it lacks for true authenticity is roses clenched in the dancers' teeth. It's a showpiece ballet for a small corps and three soloist couples, each of the latter with its own pas de deux. The dancers threw themselves into the spirit of the work, as they did throughout the evening.