I learned last night that they are making a movie of Florence Foster Jenkins’ life with Meryl Streep playing the grand dame herself. I can. Not. Wait!!! Let me back up a bit.
Florence Foster Jenkins (1868-1944) was a well-moneyed, well-connected American socialite and amateur opera singer who rose to infamy at the turn of the twentieth century. Although she is remembered as possibly the worst singer in the world, Mrs. Jenkins was blissfully unaware of her musical shortcomings. In fact, she regularly spent extraordinary amounts of money to give concerts and make recordings of her singing. Her delusions were no doubt encouraged by her coach and accompanist, Cosme McMoon, who also made regular (and equally hilariously awful) appearances on stage at her musical spectacles. Her performances were so famously terrible that people went to extraordinary means to secure a ticket to one of her shows. Although her concerts were by invitation only, she regularly played to packed houses. Her final self-funded concert – her only public appearance – was in Carnegie Hall, and it was a sold-out show. This was the only show attended by members of the press, and the (understandably) terrible reviews reportedly devastated her. She died of a heart attack two days later.
Bestie A. gave me one of her albums about 20 years ago, and we used to split ourselves laughing listening to it. I hope your reaction is similar. Without further ado, here is Herself in all her glory. Sorry/not sorry.
And, in the unlikely event that you haven’t had enough, here’s another.