Gene Kelly isn't the only tap dancer with a Pittsburgh connection. Few recognize the name of Paul Draper, who held the Andrew Mellon chair at Carnegie Mellon from 1967-78. He died in 1996.

Lighthouse Photography Karen Prunzik and students of Point Park University's Playhouse Dance Company rehearse the Paul Draper tap piece they will perform this weekend. Click photo for larger image. Playhouse Dance Company Program: "Pittsburgh Connection" with choreography by Paul Draper, Kiki Lucas, Peter Merz, Alan Obuzor and Mark Taylor. Where: Pittsburgh Playhouse. When: Friday 8 p.m.; Saturday 2 and 8 p.m.; Sunday 2 p.m. Tickets: $12-$14; 412-621-4445 or www.pittsburghplayhouse.com.

One of many artists who came under the scrutiny of the McCarthy hearings in the '50s, Draper had a stylish brand of tap that never really hit the mainstream of popularity like movie star Fred Astaire. But he reached a select and appreciative audience with harmonica virtuoso Larry Adler and was one of America's top concert attractions during the '40s.

Former protege and Broadway star Karen Prunzik will be staging the world premiere of a little-known Draper work, "Tap in three movements," for the Playhouse Dance Company's own "Pittsburgh Connections 2" this weekend. It is a piece that he choreographed for Lee Theodore's American Dance Machine and his only ensemble piece.

Armed with some grainy rehearsal footage, Prunzik is re-creating the work of this man who would not sacrifice his principles at any cost.

Born in Florence, Italy, on Oct. 5, 1909, Draper was a self-taught dancer who explored the possibilities of tap dancing with elements of ballet. A handsome man who could walk into a room and cause women to swoon, he appeared in "Colleen" (1936) with Ruby Keeler and "Time of Your Life" with James Cagney. He was hired to follow up with "Blue Skies," but Draper had a stuttering problem. The director subsequently fired him and hired a young Fred Astaire.

Draper took to the concert and nightclub stage, mostly with Adler, using classical music to support his light, clean and elegant tapping. He also married New York City Ballet soloist Heidi Vosseler, with whom he had three children.

"He was a very eloquent, demanding, lively man," says Kate Draper, his youngest, who went on to dance on Broadway.

But despite his looks and talent, fate would interfere with Draper's career. He and Adler were scheduled for a concert that benefited citizens who were opposing Spanish leader Francisco Franco in Greenwich, Conn.

It was a time when the United States government supported Franco and a time when paranoia against communism was taking hold. A woman in the audience spoke out against the concert in a newspaper, calling Draper and Adler communists.

They sued for slander, but it only resulted in a hung jury. "That's all it took to ruin a career," says Draper. "There are those who said that if they hadn't sued for slander, then the whole thing would have been swept under the rug."

But the damage was done and Draper was forced to flee to Switzerland for more than three years with financial help from his relatives. "Still, Dad was dancing every day," Draper recalls.

When he returned to New York, it was virtually impossible to resume his career. His daughter notes, "He spent maybe a year in dive-like classrooms, teaching whoever wanted to learn how to dance and taking whatever gig came along. But he probably wouldn't have done it any other way. He was a man who stood up for his beliefs -- he was very adamant about that."

According to his daughter, Draper found the ultimate gig at Carnegie Mellon. "He took to academic life as a duck took to water," she says. "He loved exchanging ideas, he loved debating and he loved students, in spite of the fact that many of them, I'm sure, didn't feel likewise because he was so demanding. Probably all his life there were kids who left class in tears. But the ones who got it, got it and were extremely loyal and admired him forever."

Prunzik was one of those students.

She was a teenager at Montour High School when her tap teacher, Carol Knight, who taught a variation of the Draper style, suggested that they both attend a master class at CMU.

Beginning with more than 30 people the first day, Draper abruptly stopped the class and went down the line saying, "You, you, you -- you're out, you don't belong here." By the next week, "quite a few walked out" as a result of Draper's "ruthless, very difficult demeanor."

There were fewer and fewer each week of the six-week course, until Knight and Prunzik were the only ones left. Then Knight was unable to come the last week, leaving the 17-year-old Prunzik virtually quaking in her taps.

But she was determined. "Anything he threw at me, I was able to do it," she says. "It was just a match made in heaven."

Her parents invited Draper to dinner and suggested that he take on Prunzik as a private student. "Absolutely not," Draper said. But Prunzik's father talked about "passing on your work." After another rejection, he slammed his fist on the table. "What do you think you're going to do -- take your mastery, your craft, your style, your brilliance to the grave with you?" he asked. "Shame on you!"

"I think Paul was stunned," says Prunzik. "Then he said, 'When do you want to start?' "

She studied with Draper for two years, taking three-hour private lessons every other night at CMU. Draper yelled at her and drove her relentlessly. There were abundant tears. Prunzik once threw her tap shoes into the garbage, only to take them out the next morning.

Prunzik went on to originate the role of Anytime Annie in the Broadway blockbuster hit "42nd Street" and take over the lead role of Peggy Sawyer. Film credits include "A Chorus Line" and "Tap," with tours in "My One and Only," among others.

Fast forward to Point Park, where Prunzik is passionate about passing on Draper's work to another generation, one brought up on the foot-stomping brilliance of Savion Glover.

Draper understandably objects to the current trend. "Tap dancing these days, by most peoples' recognition, is stomping into the floor and not the absence of sound and the uplift of the whole body. And there is no reason why this is so -- and yet, it is so."

She hopes that "Karen, in her own way, can impress upon people that there is another way of tapping. Karen is a beautiful dancer," Draper says. "Dad thought, of all the students that he had throughout his life, that she was the best."