The legendary Florence Foster Jenkins, celebrated in the 1930s and 40s for sold-out concerts in which she massacred music with an indescribably dreadful voice, is profiled in the San Diego premiere of Peter Quilter’s play Glorious!, playing through Sunday, Feb. 7, at North Coast Repertory Theatre, co-directed by Rosina Reynolds and Christopher M. Williams.

One of her recordings was called “The Glory of the Human Voice.” The question marks were intentional, because the singer was a tin-eared socialite with pots of money, scores of toadying friends and the determination to do what she loved, lack of talent notwithstanding.

Born into wealth in the late 1860s, Jenkins showed great promise on the piano, performing regularly and to great acclaim.

When a serious arm injury ended her budding career as a pianist, she turned to singing. Unfortunately, her talent as an instrumentalist did not translate to the voice, to the extent that her father forbade her to sing or even to take lessons.

But by 1928, both parents had died and Florence, fortified with a huge inherited fortune, was free to pursue her dream. And that she did, giving regular recitals for select friends (would-be ticket purchasers had to be interviewed in order to “root out the enemy”) and entertaining annually at a fancy ball at the Ritz Carlton. But her crowning achievement was a sold-out concert at Carnegie Hall for which 2,000 would-be patrons had to be turned away.

Glorious! is Peter Quilter’s 2005 story of Jenkins (Susan Denaker) and her accompanist Cosme McMoon (David McBean), beginning when restaurant pianist Cosme walks into her digs at the posh Seymour Hotel for an “interview” and is offered the job before a note is played or sung.

Cosme nearly bolts when he hears Florence’s impressionistic notion of pitch and complete lack of musicality – until she tells him she will triple his current salary. McMoon was her accompanist until her death in 1944.

You have to admire the kind of devotion to the art that would allow someone without talent or training to sing in public. Although Jenkins’ pitch wasn’t consistently as wildly off as Denaker portrays it, she did regularly miss high notes, massacre runs, sing flat and always, always sing with a honky, cringe-inducing tone.

But oh, my, did she love to perform. She adored the diva role and made extravagant (and hilarious) costumes for her recitals. Her angel and shepherdess outfits must be seen to be believed.

Denaker’s “diva of din” is superb, singing with what she calls “quiet confidence” and maintaining to the end that her audiences loved her. And who can argue with the fact that she did fill Carnegie Hall in her last concert with 2,000 would-be patrons to spare?

McBean plays a mean piano and mugs better than anyone around. But though this role invites eye rolls and shocked looks, McBean’s overuse of them only emphasizes the play’s major shortcoming: it’s a one-joke piece, inviting us to hear the lady sing and cringe, giggle or guffaw. Late in the show it becomes clear that Cosme has developed a certain affection for this woman who followed her dream despite the response, but this aspect is underwritten, and McBean plays the role for laughs. He deservedly gets them.

Annie Hinton does a good turn in the triple roles of Maria, Jenkins’ surly Spanish-speaking maid, who mutters very unkind things that her mistress does not understand; Jenkins’ best friend Dorothy, who finds Cosme and asks him to audition; and disgruntled music lover Mrs. Verrinder-Gedge, who at a concert marches onstage to demand that Jenkins stop torturing the music.

Laugh if you will, but it’s difficult not to be impressed by Jenkins’ unflagging joy and passion about music. She did what she loved.

“People may say I cannot sing, but no one can ever say that I did not sing,” she said.

Glorious! plays through Sunday, Feb. 7, at North Coast Repertory Theatre. Shows Thursday through Saturday at 8 p.m.; Sunday at 2 and 7 p.m. For tickets, call 858-481-1055 or visit www.northcoastrep.org.

You’ll need to imagine the hurricane raging outside when Marty (Jason Perkins) and fiancee Lesly (Karenssa LeGear) arrive at Marty’s family homestead for Thanksgiving dinner, but the interior chaos of the characters in Wendy MacLeod’s The House of Yes is reflected from the get-go in their bizarre behavior.

The House of Yes is Dale Morris’ farewell production at the Compass Theatre (originally 6th@Penn) location he has occupied for nine years. Jay Mower directs the play, which runs through Sunday, Feb. 14.

Set in 1982 in a “declining Virginia mansion” next door to a Kennedy house, MacLeod tells us the inhabitants are people who “have never been said no to.” Mrs. Pascal (Lee Donnelly) is the widowed mother (whether by abandonment or murder is for you to decide) of Anthony (Bobby Schiefer), a 20-something zombie who seems never to have learned about appropriate behavior, and older twins Jackie-O (Laura Massey), six months out of a mental hospital, and Marty (Jason Perkins), a recent escapee from the Pascal nuthouse.

The first act is a standard meet-the-loony-family fare, though these folks are clearly further around the bend than in most family comedies.

The second act gets considerably darker; in fact leaps into the pathology hinted at in the first act, and The House of Yes becomes about as uplifting as Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, only more perverted and less intelligently written. These characters even play George and Martha type games, but here only Lesly and Marty come close to engaging the audience. The others are so far out as to seem like specimens in a zoo or under glass in a scientist’s lab somewhere.

When I was growing up, we considered the very rich a breed apart, perhaps even a subset of the species. But we never imagined “those” people to be anything like this bunch.

MacLeod apparently considers this a black comedy – and so did many in the opening night audience, who laughed often. I consider it a horror show, a parade of emotional and psychological freaks offering very little to laugh about – and, unfortunately, nothing to think about, because MacLeod never gives us enough information about the “why” to care very much.

The actors do the best they can with the material they’re given. LeGear and Perkins are most successful, probably because they are identifiable as human; LeGear increasingly alarmed at what she sees and Perkins trying to escape from the family zoo. But The House of Yes is not a satisfying theatrical experience.

Compass becomes ion theatre’s new home after this show, and Morris announced that his board is looking around for other possible venues. I hope they find one; Compass/6th@Penn has mounted some wonderful productions over the years.

The House of Yes plays through Feb. 14, at Compass Theatre. Shows Thursday through Saturday at 7:30 p.m.; matinee Sunday at 2 p.m. For tickets, call 619-688-9210 or visit www.compasstheatre.com.