Florence Foster Jenkins—the Depression-era New York socialite who became famous-slash-infamous for her legendarily tone-deaf operatic recitals—is a fascinating enough character that she’s been the subject of multiple theatrical studies, documentaries and feature films. At the core of that fascination is speculation about the intersection between genuine artistic expression and self-delusion, in much the same way that the filmmaking career of Plan 9 from Outer Space’s Ed Wood remains so compelling. Should we respect someone simply for unabashed love of their chosen artistic form, even if most critical standards would suggest that they’re terrible at it?

That’s part of the appeal of Stephen Temperley’s 2004 play Souvenir, told from the point of view of Jenkins’ longtime piano accompanist, Cosmé McMoon (Bob Walton). From a remove of several decades, Cosmé recounts his first meeting with Mrs. Foster Jenkins (Linda Mugleston) in 1927, at which it becomes immediately apparent that the self-styled coloratura soprano can’t find the right note with both hands and a flashlight. But, desperate for work, Cosmé agrees to take the job, along the way befriending his patron and becoming protective of her through their 20-year partnership as her public profile grows.

That personal relationship remains very much at the center of the two-actor show, which plays beautifully in the intimate Meldrum Theatre. Walton’s asides to the audience—interspersed with performing popular hits of the era and the arias in Foster Jenkins’ repertoire—are gently observational about the challenges of being an artistic collaborator (and employee) while also trying to be kind. It’s a tricky balance for the show that Mugleston's brilliant re-creations Foster Jenkins’ screeching performances are clearly meant to be comedic, with the modern audience laughing along just as many of those hearing the real person laughed 60 years ago, while still finding something human and admirable in what she did. And that’s perhaps the emotional core of Temperley’s play, which definitely hits at the work of an arts critic: How important is evaluating the quality of the work in front of you, compared to the need to treat other human beings with compassion and decency, even if they fall short of the mark?

Structurally, Souvenir at times feels like a concept better suited for film than for the stage, as the second act—which focuses on Foster Jenkins’ 1944 performance at Carnegie Hall—requires multiple elaborate costume changes, and as a result demands that Walton’s Cosmé take over with quite a bit of narration between individual musical numbers. It’s true this ends up mimicking the pacing of that original performance, but it feels a little harder to stick with the mounting ridiculousness than it might if those songs could play in more rapid succession.

Still, the imperfection of art compared to the picture you have in your head might be a significant part of what Souvenir wants to celebrate. Much of the comedy may be at the expense of Florence Foster Jenkins, but it does ultimately ask viewers to interrogate that response, and whether it says more about them than it does about the person to whom they’re reacting. By the time Florence Foster Jenkins makes her final curtain call, Souvenir reveals its warm-hearted humanity about how reality sometimes pales relative to a creative vision, and that maybe that reality can be beautiful in its own way.

Pioneer Theatre Company's production of Souvenir runs through Dec. 21 at the Meldrum Theatre (375 S. 1400 East). Visit the website for tickets.