Arts & Entertainment
Accompanying ‘Florence’
‘Big Bang’ star plays gay in new Meryl Streep vehicle

Simon Helberg as accompanist Cosmé McMoon in ‘Florence Foster Jenkins.’ (Photo courtesy Paramount Pictures)
Fans who only know Simon Helberg as the super nerd Howard Wolowitz on “The Big Bang Theory” will be surprised and delighted to see him in his latest role: Meryl Streep’s shyly flamboyant accompanist in the new movie “Florence Foster Jenkins,” opening Friday, Aug. 12 in wide release.
Madame Florence, played by Streep, was a wealthy New York socialite and patron of the arts. Although she was a classically trained pianist who played at the White House when she was a child, her claim to musical fame was an infamous 1944 Carnegie Hall performance that showcased her complete lack of singing ability.
Helberg plays Cosmé McMoon, Madame Florence’s long-suffering but supportive pianist. He started developing his character by zeroing in on the work of screenwriter Nicholas Martin.
“First and foremost is the script,” Helberg says. “He wrote these characters who are very vivid and very full. There were so many clues in the script. I took every word and direction as gospel.”
From there, Helberg turned to the historical record, discovering he was born in Mexico to Irish immigrants who later moved to San Antonio and New York.
“I went to research who he really was. There wasn’t a lot of information on him, but there were these little insights,” he says. “I thought he must have felt somewhat alien.”
As for McMoon being gay, everything pointed to it. McMoon was, after all, an accompanist. He was fascinated with muscle magazines and body-building competitions. He worked at a bathhouse and never married.
But Helberg decided to approach the character’s sexual orientation in a subtle manner, reflecting both the character and the period. McMoon starts out the movie “completely innocent.” But, as he starts to move about in the glittering social circles that Jenkins and her husband St. Clair Bayfield (Hugh Grant) inhabit, he becomes more aware of his sexuality. By the end of the movie, McMoon rushes backstage for the Carnegie Hall concert, explaining his lateness by breathlessly gushing, “I was attacked by lots of sailors.” As Helberg dryly notes, it’s not exactly clear what has happened, but “the light bulb has started to flicker.”
As for McMoon’s delightful physical mannerisms, they’re rooted in Helbing’s own training as a piano player: arms weighted to the floor and fingers dancing over the keys. Cosmé, Simon says, “has the posture that a classically trained pianist would be taught.”
Helberg, in fact, nearly became a professional pianist.
“I’m good,” he says. “I used to obsessively play and practice all the time in high school. But once I started acting, then I just started playing for fun. I threw away that career path. Because being an actor is so much easier than being a jazz pianist.”
“I kept playing for fun,” he says, “but never anything classical or opera. Then this came along. I really wanted to be in this movie and thought how great that I can play the piano. At least I’ll be able to put my hands in the right place and make it look real when a classically trained pianist plays the music. Maybe I’ll get to play a song or two.”
But things turned out slightly differently. Director Stephen Frears wanted a pianist who could really play Strauss and Mozart. Once he got the part, Helbing started a crash course in classical music. Then, once he got on set, Helberg started a crash course with Meryl Streep. Luckily, Helberg says, “I’m really good at making people sound worse.”
Streep and Helberg hey had a week and a half to rehearse before filming started.
“We had this great collaboration,” Helberg says. “We really had to go into this intimate and intense training. We had to work it and work it and work it. It was incredibly tough and satisfying to actually sit there and do it.”
Initially, Streep and Helberg assumed they would perform to pre-recorded tracks.
“I know Meryl always wanted to sing it live, but at first that didn’t seem possible,” the actor says. “We prerecorded at Abbey Road Studios, but once we did that, the producers said, ‘Well, they can really do it. Let’s just have them do it live. Screw that album.’”
Working with Streep, Helberg says, “was honestly a dream for me. She’s very aware of people and she’s very open and she’s grounded. She’s about making the best movie she can and it’s not about her. There’s something very effortless about it.”
Since McMoon becomes a confidante to both Madame Florence and her husband, Helberg also spent a lot of time working with Hugh Grant, whom he calls “hilariously self-deprecating and neurotic.”
“I thought that was my job but were battling for who was most neurotic. He was completely consumed with making the film the best it could be. I know he was also nervous about working with Meryl and even Meryl was nervous about being Meryl. That’s a lot of pressure.”
The scene, however, that was must challenging for the actor was McMoon’s delayed burst of laughter after he finally hears Madame Florence sing.
“It’s so hard to laugh that way when you’re having an uncontrollable fit of laughter.”
He asked Meryl Streep for advice, and she said, “Well try to cry, that always makes me laugh.” Helberg rejected that advice, fearing he’d actually cry.
He tried recording a couple of things on his phone, but finally realized, “I just had to surrender to it. Stephen had a conversation with me about how I saw that scene, about how I saw it being shot and how I saw it being cut together, and how I saw the elevator and how many people should be in it. He really was asking me questions that I felt less qualified to answer than he, but he really wanted to know what I thought. It was a tricky scene for everyone involved, but it did turn out nicely.”
Now that “Florence Foster Jenkins” is in theaters, Helberg is getting ready to start filming season 10 of “The Big Bang Theory.” The actor admits he doesn’t know a lot about what’s in store for Howard and his friend.
He says we’ll be seeing more of Christine Baranski, Laurie Metcalf and Judd Hirsch and meet Penny’s brother and mother.
“I literally have no idea.” he says. “They don’t tell us anything ever until we get the script the night before the table read. What I do know, based on my rudimentary knowledge of biology, is that he will be having a baby, because Bernadette is pregnant and I hear that’s how it works. Their baby will come in the first half of the season and they will be navigating that and figuring out who the bigger baby is, him or the baby.”
Just as humans have always had meals, queer humans, too, have enjoyed meals. Yet what is it that makes “queer food” distinct?
At the beginning of May in Montreal, the Queer Food Conference 2026 sought not to answer that question, but to further interrogate it. The conference united scholars, activists, artists, journalists, farmers, chefs, and other food industry professionals for three days of panels, workshops, discussions, and, yes, meals, in an inclusive, thoughtful, contemplative-yet-whimsical environment, taking a comprehensive view of the landscape of queer food.
The two organizers – Professor Alex Ketchum, at the Institute for Gender, Sexuality, and Feminist Studies of McGill University in Montreal, and Professor Megan Elias, Director of Food Studies & Gastronomy at Boston University – met in 2022 when Elias acted as a peer reviewer for Ketchum’s second book, “Ingredients for a Revolution,” a wide-ranging history of more than 230 feminist and lesbian-feminist restaurants, cafes, and coffeehouses from 1972 to the present in the US.
Elias, taken by the book and its exploration, invited Ketchum to speak at one of Elias’s courses, at which pastries were served and feminist bread making was baked into conversation. Elias floated the idea of co-organizing a queer food conference – and a hot 24 hours later, Ketchum said yes, with plans sketched out, from grants to topics to speakers. In parallel, the duo started to conceptualize “Queers at the Table,” a book based on their work (published last year).
The conference, the book, the research: their work is, in part, grounded in the question: What is queer food? True to queer theory, each has her own nuanced response as drivers of their research, challenging the traditional and looking beyond norms of food studies. Ketchum’s view is that it is grounded on food by and for the queer community, in specific histories, and especially in the labor behind the food. Elias posits that queer food is at the intersection of queerness and culinary studies, beyond gender norms and binaries, back to the societal basics of queer food as part of queer humans always having meals. “Queer food destabilizes assumptions about food, gender and sexuality, making space for a wider range of relationships to food,” she says.
The academics’ professed enthusiasm, however, rarely reached beyond small circles.
“I regularly attended big food studies conferences, but almost never saw presentations about gender identity beyond women’s roles,” says Elias about her prior work, and when her students would ask for additional literature about sexuality and food, results had been sparse. Ketchum echoed this gap: When she was in graduate studies, she received hesitation from leadership about her chosen field of study. By 2024, however, queer food as an area of study and practice had grown, whether in popular culture or well as in publishing, setting the stage for the first Queer Food Conference in 2024 in Boston. Their aim at that even was to launch the subfield of queer food studies into the mainstream, so that fellow academics, students, and those interested in the space could convene, “creating space for others to build,” says Ketchum. “People were enthusiastic.”
Once Ketchum and Elias published “Queers at the Table” in 2025 (notably, gay author John Birdsall also published a book examining queer identity through food last year, “What Is Queer Food?”), they laid the foundation for the 2026 conference in Montreal. This edition was an “embodied” conference, inclusive of various ontologies in queer food studies: theory, labor, art, taste, an interdisciplinary, expansive grounding.
Topics ranged from cookbooks and influencers to farming and land movements, bars and cafes, brewing and baking, history and sociology, writing and printmaking, healthcare and community, and centering marginalized – especially trans – voices.
Naturally, food was centered. The conference’s keynotes were not academics, but the chefs themselves who created the food with their own hands that attendees ate over the three days. “Not to disregard a pure academic space,” says Ketchum, “but to not have food in a room when we talk about food would be wild.”
Jackson Tucker, a Distinguished Graduate Fellow at the University of Delaware, said that “What I found [at the conference] was a genuinely diverse gathering: scholars who did grounded social research but also practitioners, organizers, and people who had never thought about an academic conference in their lives and didn’t need to. That mix is the soul of this whole project for me. Without the people who are out in the world doing queer food, the conference wouldn’t exist.”
Ketchum – her home being Montreal – also worked to fold in community-driven events so that attendees could get a taste of queer food in the city outside of classroom walls; for example, attendees participated in a collaborative evening pizza-making class at a queer-owned pizzeria.
The interdisciplinary nature of the conference led to sharing of research, thoughts, activities, and planning. There was a “value of bringing people together of different backgrounds, which leads to richer discussion,” she says.
Elias picked up on this theme: “I saw people bonding and connecting and believing in Queer Food Studies,” – one of the central goals that Ketchum noted, further legitimizing a nascent field. As both professors continue their research and leadership, they envision a continued layering of centering the queer experience and community through the shared value and study of food.
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Gay Men’s Chorus celebrates 45 years at annual gala
‘Sapphire & Sparkle’ Spring Affair held at the Ritz Carlton
The Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington held the annual Spring Affair gala at the Ritz Carlton Washington, D.C. on Saturday. The theme for this year’s fete was “Sapphire & Sparkle.” The chorus celebrated 45 years in D.C. with musical performances, food, entertainment, and an awards ceremony.
Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington Executive Director Justin Fyala and Artistic Director Thea Kano gave welcoming speeches. Opening remarks were delivered by Spring Affair co-chairs Tracy Barlow and Tomeika Bowden. Uproariously funny comedian Murray Hill performed a stand-up set and served as the emcee.
There were performances by Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington groups Potomac Fever, 17th Street Dance, the Rock Creek Singers, Seasons of Love, and the GenOUT Youth Chorus.

Anjali Murthy, a member of the chorus and a graduate of the GenOUT Youth Chorus, addressed the attendees of the gala.
“The LGBTQ+ community isn’t bound by blood ties: we are brought together by shared experience,” Murthy said. “Being Gen Z, I grew up with Ellen [DeGeneres] telling me through the TV screen that it gets better: that one day, it’ll all be okay. The sentiment isn’t wrong, but it’s passive. What I’ve learned from GMCW is that our future is something we practice together. It exists because people like you continue to show up for it, to believe in the possibilities of what we’re still becoming”
The event concluded with the presentation of the annual Harmony Awards. This year’s awardees included local drag artist and activist Tara Hoot, the human rights organization Rainbow Railroad as well as Rocky Mountain Arts Association Executive Director, Dr. Chipper Dean.
(Washington Blade photos and videos by Michael Key)































Equality Prince William Pride was held at the Harris Pavilion in Manassas, Va. on Saturday, May 16.
(Washington Blade photos by Landon Shackelford)















