Ta mara Bad, Fowler Foul, Da rice WorseThe team of Fowier and Tamara, last night's Concert Series dancers, came a cropper, proving again that it takes more than four depths of stage and a printed program to make art out of a third-rate floor show.Whatever agility shown by Mr.Addison Fowler was less a matter of grace than a question of expediency—as if Mr. Fowler had spent I he better pa it of his career dodging tables in night clubs or tomatoes on the RKO circuit.As far as last night’s program is concerned, Mr. Fowler can be disposed of quickly and quietly as the inept foil of Miss Fiorenz Tamara'-s equally inept exhibition.In the Valse Triste, Miss Tamara swathed herself in white drapery, sank to the floor, chilled and numb, and stayed there. This was quite a feat because the floor was doubtless draughty.In “A Modern Fantasy,” the two danced indecently to “Night and Day and “Temptation.” A “Modern Fantasy” was termed “a dramatic interpretation of the temptress in aboriginal dance movements to a syncopated beat.” A state of undress, the two should be informed, is not the first requisite of aborigin-ality. But with a little misinterpretation, they had the right word forit.In “Gavotte,” the team suggested nothing so much as an elegant 1830 couple, as conceived on the labels of after-shaving lotion.The A.S.S.U. will do better afterIthis to reserve their series for artists.— Slater.