Everyone is in agreement, Florence Foster Jenkins could not “sing” in the traditional sense. This 1930s/40s chanteuse was legendary for her inability to find, approach, or hold a note. A society matron who produced charity concerts, blissfully unaware of the fact the masses that came were there only to laugh at her off-key warbling, has the distinction of being the first tone-deaf soloist to grace the stage of Carnegie Hall in a sold out performance. But playwright Stephen Temperley is aware of the deeper themes at work in Jenkins’ life and art. His script, Souvenir, is a two-person play in which Jenkins (here played by Valley native Judy Kaye) and her enabling pianist Cosme McMoon (Donald Corren) gives us the silliness of her singing and conviction, and then shocks us into a deeper understanding of her art.

Arizona Theatre Company has scored a coup in being able to bring together nearly the full ensemble of the critically acclaimed Broadway production that ran from November 10th, 2005 through January 8th, 2006. Included are: Kaye and Corren, director Vivian Matalon, scenic designer R. Michael Miller, lighting designer Ann C. Wrightson, costume designer Tracy Christensen, sound designer Phillip Scot Peglow (apparently co-designer David Budries did not), and stage manager Jack Gianino. Other than the producer, the only apparent newbie of the group is David H. Lawrence, the wig designer. Leave it to ATC’s Artistic Director David Ira Goldstein and this strong regional company to bring our state such a treat.

It’s easy to see from this strong production why the critics crowed. Kaye is in remarkable form. It takes a singer of incomparable steadiness and confidence to be able to recreate Jenkins’ very unique tones. But it’s more than Kaye’s vocal prowess that makes hers a must-see performance. Kaye captures Jenkins’ childlike vulnerabilities and her charmingly naïve self-assurance, necessary qualities to understand Jenkins’ character. Corren is enjoyable as McMoon, who starts the show as reminiscence from 1964 of his days with Jenkins, then launches into the entire history, all with a piano before him. Corren’s McMoon is a flamboyant, droll, dry, and ever-audience-aware creation. He plays along with and towards the joke in cahoots with the audience, and he does a good job of showing McMoon’s conversion by the end.