Seventy years ago, every opera lover in New York knew of Florence Foster Jenkins and her improbable career.
Her few recordings were snapped up like hotcakes. In the century after her heyday, they remain available, a "must-have" in every complete collection of sopranos on disc and probably among the most-played.
To possess a ticket to one of her private annual concerts at the Ritz-Carlton ballroom was a privilege enjoyed only by the highest of high society. When tickets for her Carnegie Hall debut went on sale to the public in 1944, they sold out instantly -- despite the fact that the diva was 76.
But those fans, and the fans of today, were not expecting to hear the voice of famed "Swedish Nightingale" Jenny Lind come back to life. Quite the opposite.
"Imagine the brakes of a car being frantically applied at the last possible moment to avoid running over a cat. Or, for that matter, imagine the sound the cat makes while getting run over," writes contemporary Broadway critic Matthew Murray.
"These aren't pear-shaped tones, or tones of any shape whatsoever. Like the screeches produced by an inept first-time violinist, they're formless, evanescent approximations of sound with the same relationship to music that unlucky swimmers have with great white sharks."
Reviews by Jenkins' contemporaries were more circumspect. "She was exceedingly happy in her work," wrote one. "It is a pity so few artists are. And the happiness was communicated as if by magic to her hearers."
In liner notes for RCA's reissue of her recordings, the author recalled the note on a Brahms song with which she opened one recital, "O singer, if thou canst not dream, Leave this song unsung," and tactfully observed, "Nobody will ever say Florence Foster Jenkins couldn't dream."
Born to wealth, Jenkins loved music. She studied it and patronized it. But her aspirations to display her own talents on stage were thwarted by her parents and the doctor to whom she was briefly married. Never mind. Once the folks had passed on and probate was settled she had plenty of money to hire a hall and an accompanist, order outlandish concert dress (one costume famously featured angel wings) and aim for the high Cs.
Her society friends bought tickets, at first from a sense of duty, then to indulge a perverse pleasure -- one shared by buffs ever since.
It wasn't just that she sang badly but that she did it with enthusiasm and utter self-confidence. When insufficiently stifled guffaws escaped from various audience members, she attributed the disruption to unnamed jealous rivals.
The fact is, Jenkins had no rivals. Not in her lifetime nor since. In the past 10 years alone, three well-received plays have been written about her.
The most recent of those, "Souvenir: A Fantasia on the Life of Florence Foster Jenkins" by Stephen Temperly, is now running in Anchorage at Cyrano's.
Broadway star Judy Kaye, who debuted the role of Jenkins in New York's "Souvenir," quipped, "It's hard work to sing badly well."
The team presenting Cyrano's "Souvenir" are among the most talented performers to be featured at Anchorage Opera productions in the past few years.
Gerald Steichen, playing piano as Jenkins' accompanist, Cosme McMoon, has conducted several notable Mozart productions in the Discovery Theatre as well as an impressive "Il Trovatore."
Director Bill Fabris created the company's hysterical and accessible "Don Pasquale" in 2008. And soprano Kate Egan, performing the role of Jenkins, is known for bravura parts ranging from the title character in Handel's "Semele" to Dominic Argento's atonal, modern "Miss Havisham's Wedding Night."
It's not as difficult as you might think for a polished singer to conjure up the noise of Imogene Coca or Lucille Ball spoofing opera, said Egan. "Jenkins was often on pitch," she said. "What made it sound so bad was mostly the trailing off and falling short of a key note."
The flaws were amplified by Jenkins' attitude, said Steichen. "It was her earnestness, the way she took it all so seriously. Look at 'American Idol.' These singers are still around."
The play is presented as a series of flashbacks related by McMoon. We first see him playing in a New York night club in 1964. It's the 20th anniversary of Jenkins' death, which starts him recollecting his 12 year relationship with her.
"At their first meeting, he's horrified by her voice," said Steichen. "He stays for the money -- but in time he becomes her protector. It's a journey that begins with his shock and disbelief, but over time we see what he learns about music and life."
"And friendship," added Egan.
Egan, Steichen and Fabris have long working relationships with one another, including a lot of experience in musical comedy.
"But the danger with something like 'Souvenir' is that is becomes a one joke thing," said Egan.
Fabris agreed. "My goal with the performers is not to let them become absurd caricatures," he said.
The raw material is there. It takes more than vocal mediocrity to become a legend. There's something tragic about Jenkins' propensity for self-delusion and part of the fascination with her has been devoted to trying to dissect the complexities of her compulsion.
"There's always the question, was Florence in on the joke?" said Steichen.
"And did she care?" said Egan.
For all of Jenkins' protestations that it was the music that mattered, one suspects that love mattered more, love that she never felt she received from her parents or husband, love that she desperately hoped for from her social circle but which, in the play at least, she only found in her caring accompanist.
McMoon was able to get past his own understanding of what good music should sound like to find the good person inside the bad singer. And, in that sense, Jenkins wasn't that much different from other people.
"We can only hear ourselves," said Egan. Non-performers are constantly astonished to hear their voice on recordings. "What she heard herself singing was not what the audience heard."
It's a message that Fabris thinks lurks at the core of the play. "We all have different drummers in our heads," he said.
Find Mike Dunham online at adn.com/contact/mdunham or call 257-4332.
SOUVENIR: A FANTASIA ON THE LIFE OF FLORENCE FOSTER JENKINS will be presented at 7 p.m. Thursday-Saturday and 3 p.m. Sunday through Sept. 12 at Cyrano's, 413 D St. General admission is $18.25 available at centertix.net.
By MIKE DUNHAM
mdunham@adn.com