31 March 2025
“People may say I can’t sing, but no one can ever say I didn’t sing!”
Florence Foster Jenkins was one of the world’s most deluded performers – the William McGonnigall or in more recent times, the Margarita Pracatan of sopranos – but in 1940s America she turned self-deception into an art form.
Dressed flamboyantly in trademark tulle, tinsel and sporting massive angel wings, this dumpy coloratura soprano performed on stages smothered with flowers, clucking and squawking her way through famous arias by Strauss, Mozart, Vivaldi and Brahms, sending audiences into fits of sidesplitting laughter.
“At my recitals I’m always surrounded by flowers. Which serves an artistic purpose – because the delicate fragrance of the blooms can mingle with the delicate cadences of my voice, making it all so much more beautiful for the audiences – indulging all of their senses at once.”
As they leave her recitals she presents attendees with a bottle of sherry bearing her image on the label as a parting gift. Before each performance she liberally imbides on the sherry herself.
With a mix of grace, dignity and self-delusional poise, and with absolutely no understanding of pitch, an uncertain sense of rhythm and a chronic inability to carry a tune, her shortcomings were legendary. Yet for all her faults, Jenkins won a legion of admirers and would go on to stage a sold-out concert to over 3,000 concertgoers at New York City’s Carnegie Hall.
Critics searched for ever more subtle and ironic ways to describe her style – “The first lady of the sliding scale,” “She was undaunted by … the composer’s intent” – and famous musicians and celebrities encouraged her. Irving Berlin and Cole Porter sent her flowers and congratulatory notes:
“It’s Too Darn Hot! It’s Too Darn Hot! But when you sing, it’s not!”
Hollywood and Broadway star Tallulah Bankhead had to be helped from one concert literally helpless with laughter.
Her warblings survive today thanks to the many records she cut at Melotone Studios.
“I simply sang through the song just once. But I feel that if you don’t get it right the first time, you won’t do it any better the second – so why tire yourself ? That’s why I don’t find recording anywhere near the trial most of my fellow artistes do.”
Several playwrights have been tempted to put Florence’s eccentric life and brief career on stage and film. In 2001 I was publicist at the Edinburgh Fringe for the world premiere of Viva La Diva! by Chris Ballance, which starred Bread star Jean Boht, who didn’t actually sing live badly, preferring instead to mime to the actual recordings of Florence which unfortunately led to a lot of facial mugging and over acting.
Peter Quilter’s frequently blissfully funny play Glorious! premiered in 2005 and in the hands of Maureen Lipman, transferred to the Vaudeville Theatre, where it scooped an Olivier nomination as Best Comedy Play. Maureen certainly had the comedic chops but was physically unlike Florence, who was an old lady in her 70s described as looking like a big meringue.
In this classy, stylishly produced and spirited revival that hits all the right note at Manchester’s tiny Hope Mill Theatre, Wendi Peter proves to be inspired, dream casting. And what’s more, Peters delivers the full Florence experience, singing badly live. What joy!
She gives a beautifully committed performance that fully captures the delusional Florence but in calmer moments reveals the private sadness behind the public bonhomie and bluster. I have never seen Ms Peters better on stage. She is Glorious in every sense of the word.
The success of the evening also also belongs in a large part to Ted Lasso star Charlie Hiscock making a really impressive stage debut as Florence’s new accompanist Cosmé McMoon. A young gay man estranged from his family and eeking out a living as a restaurant pianist until Florence waves her $$$ and secures his services, his facial expression the first time he hears her murder an aria, is absolutely priceless. A touching relationship soon develops and this is the beating heart of Kirk Jameson’s sensitive production.
The delightfully detailed period set by Ingrid Hu – revealing four distinct locations including Florence’s sitting room, recording studio and a silk-screened recital stage – is one of best I’ve seen at the bijou venue, with a theatrical curtain and stage footlights creating the perfect theatrical atmosphere, beautifully lit by Mike Robertson.
This show is a pitch perfect delight that thoroughly deserves a much wider audience – 20 years after its premiere, surely the West End beckons!
