Seek to Misconstrue + a
Failure: The Blog 
August 2018
- When This Executive Was Fired, He Took Charge
- Obeying The Speed Limit Has Never Been More Fun
- London Black Cabs Helped Uber Grow
- Bette Graham Created A Product To Fix Her Mistakes
- Flamin' Hot Cheetos Had An Interesting Start
July 2018
- Fear This Instead Of Failure
- Re-Releasing Songs Created Success
- A CEO's Purposeful Mistake
- The Tardy Student And The Unsolvable Problem
- Fixing Potholes Through Graffiti
June 2018
- A Surprising Mistake In The Oxford English Dictionary
- US Army Embraces Mistakes
- Blocking A Hymn
- Eddie Shore Was Truly A Tough Guy
- [Video] Elon Musk Didn't "Pivot" He Failed
May 2018
- 8 Examples of Mental Toughness Part 2
- Necessity Turned Accessory: Allen Iverson's Sleeve
- This Doctor Has Continued To Fail
- 8 Examples of Mental Toughness
- MIT Accidentally Creates New Smelting Process
April 2018
- Johnny Cash Quit Singing Lessons
- Cruise Control Came Out of Frustration
- Time Spent Gaming Pays Off In The Navy
- Rock Around The Clock Was a Commercial Failure
- Sigmund Freud Should Have Been Discouraged
March 2018
The Failure of a Great Singer
Lori Ecker’s performance during the first three-fourths of her IndyFringe play “Souvenir” is absolutely horrible. However, that’s kind of the point, since this musical is about hearing the inner beauty of artistic expression—which may sound like screeching to anyone else.
When the performance opens, Cosme McMoon (John Philips) is an aging lounge pianist, lamenting with the audience about the twenty year anniversary of the death of his most unusual client. The woman of his somber memories is Florence Foster Jenkins (Lori Ecker). She is a society member in the bustling, inter-war world of New York City. Jenkins lives in a high class hotel room, and the audience is brought back to the memory of her first solicitation of Cosme as her accompanist.
Photo © Lori Ecker. Used with permission.
The problem with this arrangement, however, is that Florence Foster Jenkins is an embarrassingly horrific singer who has no idea of her complete lack of talent. With unbelievable gusto, Ecker fills the room with off-key screaming that nearly sends the audience running. Cosme McMoon—who needs the money—decides to play the fool and keep on playing the piano.
As the plot unfolds, we are repeatedly subjected to the unbearable noise matched against superb piano work. Occasionally Cosme sings a few bars or offers an vocal aside to the audience, as if to remind us that some people actually can carry a tune. It’s not until the postscript that we hear Lori Ecker’s true voice. She renders a passage from Ava Maria that reverberates with such genuine reverence for music that we nearly forget the awful cacophony from minutes before.
Failure is the secret to success. Had the audience succumbed to their frustration and departed the theater early, none would have known of Ecker’s tremendous talent. And the message for Florence Foster Jenkins is clear: the only music that really matters is that which we hear in our own hearts.
See more plays at IndyFringe or at Footlite Musicals.
