Features

Follow the Joy: Sarah Reich's Tap Dance Journey Around the World

A documentary follows tap dancer Sarah Reich across the globe, and finds that rhythm, grief, and human connection speak the same language.

Photo by Mo Mc Rae

by Markus Vögele

"It's Tappening came from a simple idea: follow the joy," says Kenny Jezek, creator, producer and director of the documentary. Originally shot as a series and re-edited into a two-hour film, It's Tappening follows Los Angeles-based, internationally acclaimed tap dancer Sarah Reich on a journey around the globe, exploring how rhythm, a universal language, connects people across cultures.

Reich, born in 1989, has performed, choreographed and taught in more than 40 countries. She gained wider recognition in 2015 touring with Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox, and has brought tap to stages from Radio City Music Hall to the Sydney Opera House. Jezek, a former professional dancer who appeared on Broadway and in productions like Cats and 42nd Street in the 1980s (years before Reich was born), has known her for most of her career. "Sarah is like a daughter to my wife and me, and her talent is incredible, as is her personality," he says. "Knowing Sarah and wanting the project to be top-notch became – and still is – my focus."

Following the Joy

For Reich, tap isn't just a stage art: it's a way of moving through the world. "How quickly are you ready to adapt to new things? Tap dance can teach you how to do that," she says. That adaptability runs through the film, which treats difference as the point of connection rather than an obstacle to it. "We all have different shoes, styles, backgrounds, ages, so we're already different," Reich says.

The production didn't always go according to plan. One of the first scenes the crew shot, at the Grand Canyon in Arizona, ended with Reich rolling her ankle. "All the excitement and energy of the project momentarily got sucked out of everyone, and everything just froze," Jezek recalls. Reich remembers the moment the same way – a sudden stop, then the instinct to keep going. "When it's all said and done, the show must go on," she says. Looking back, she isn't sure the injury was entirely a bad thing. "But for sure, the good were the people."

That instinct, to show up and let things unfold, shaped the whole project. None of the core team had worked at this scale before, Jezek says, but the film came together on the strength of one thing: trust. "We all loved and respected each other's skills and abilities and, most importantly, trusted one another," he says. "I couldn't be prouder of what we all created."

Stockholm

The clearest example of that trust came in Sweden. Two days into filming, Jezek was still unsure how to shape the Stockholm segment. The ideas he'd worked out with his director of photography hadn't quite landed. Then, walking down a hallway, he heard a familiar tap riff coming from Reich's morning class.

She was teaching "For Chance," a piece she'd written for her late friend and mentor, Chance Taylor – one she'd never taught before, because of its emotional weight. Jezek caught her eye to check if she was all right; her faint smile told him to keep the cameras rolling. "From that moment on, I knew exactly how I was going to shape that segment," he says.

In the room, Reich told her students that tap could be a way of staying connected to someone who's gone. "Maybe you have someone that you've lost that you might want to just reconnect with through this," she said, tears in her eyes. "Tap dance is a method for that."

It's the moment that gives the film its center: dance not as performance, but as language, for grief, for joy, for people who don't share a country or a first language but can still find the same rhythm. "Watching Sarah travel the world and connect with people through tap reminded me how powerful art can be when it's shared freely and without expectation," Jezek says.