New York ? “What’s that? What is that?” A young man mouths the words to his friends as he presses his knuckles to his goatee, shaking his head in disbelief at what he sees happening on stage.

A little girl in the front row laughs with delight.

But most people just stare, openmouthed or smiling, including a line of latecomers snaking up the staircase of the packed B.B. King Blues Club & Grill. On stage, working around a tight jazz quartet called The Otherz, is the man who has been called a miracle, a genius, a modern-day priest of dance: Savion Glover.

The show is Glover’s last before beginning a six-week tour called “Improvography II,” a blend of choreography for his new group, Chapter IV, and improvisation with The Otherz.

His rangy body clad in gray slacks and a loose, black John Coltrane T-shirt, Glover taps through “The Stars & Stripes Forever (for Now),” his tribute to Coltrane’s rendition of “My Favorite Things.”

Glover fires off a dazzling arsenal of steps, then lands a flat-footed stomp. Sweat flies from his beard, spraying the front row and splotching his pants as he spins and slides, thick dreads about to escape their loose coil atop his head. His long arms rock forward toward the audience, as if cradling a precious offering.

His eyes are closed.

His smile says it all.

Glover is known for hitting the wood hard. Just sitting in the second row, you can feel the vibrations from his feet — the impact ricochets up your sternum. But he never sacrifices clarity, and his specially miked platform stage faithfully broadcasts his complicated polyrhythms. Wherever he goes, it goes, with a team of sound engineers.

“I’ve had people ask, can he dance on linoleum, is tile OK?” Glover’s longtime manager, Carole Davis, said with a laugh during an afternoon sound check. “One time, someone even said to me, ‘Can he dance on carpet?’ It was like, ‘Can he dance on water?'”

Maybe in his next show.

Expressing yourself

A 1996 Tony Award for choreographing “Bring in ‘da Noise, Bring in ‘da Funk,” Dance Magazine’s “Choreographer of the Year” award, the Drama Desk Award, the Outer Circle Critics Award.

Movie roles in Spike Lee’s “Bamboozled” and Gregory Hines’ “Tap.” Broadway roles in “Tap Dance Kid,” “Black and Blue” and “Jelly’s Last Jam.”

Childhood sensation. “Sesame Street” cast member. White House guest. Clothing designer. A trademarked name.

The list of 31-year-old Glover’s accomplishments and honors goes on and on. But for Glover, it’s all about what happens when he hits the wood.

“I’m just a tap dancer, man,” he says with characteristic understatement, speaking in an empty dance studio where he’s been rehearsing. “I come from a long line of people who express themselves through the dance. I come from a long line of people who create music through their feet. I’m not doing anything new or different than what I’ve seen people do.”

Honi Coles, Bunny Briggs, Lon Chaney, Buster Brown — Glover grew up with the greats, both on and off the stage. During his recent “Classical Savion” show at the Joyce Theater in New York, Glover kept a photograph of the late Hines on the piano, a tribute to the master who served both as tap mentor and father figure. Hines died in 2003 of cancer.

“He is so influenced by these father figures, because he didn’t grow up with a father, number one, but also because they wanted to give him whatever they had as the heir apparent,” says tapper and writer Jane Goldberg.

Glover, who lives in New York City with his wife and infant son, grew up in Newark, N.J., the youngest of three boys raised by mother Yvette, a single parent. She gave Savion Suzuki drum lessons when he was 4. He entered New York’s Broadway Dance Center when he was 7 and, three years later, in 1984, made his Broadway debut in the “Tap Dance Kid.”

As word spread of the young Glover’s skills and he began performing in a series of Broadway shows, he found himself taken in by a whole new family, the “family of hoofers.” Various older tappers aided in his upbringing: Dianne Walker became “Aunt Dianne,” Chuck Green (who died in 1997) kept up a steady stream of advice, and Jimmy Slyde dubbed him “the sponge” because of Glover’s insatiable tap appetite.

And then there was Hines.

“Hines was tremendously influential,” said author and tap historian Constance Valis Hill. “He is the lynchpin, the unsung hero who brings the older generation of rhythm dancers forward and connects them to Savion.”