Dr Dee (MIF – Manchester)

It is hard, at first listen, to comprehend a story told in song – that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. But perhaps co-creators Rufus Norris (director) and Damon Albarn (composer/performer) have been wilfully opaque in their new work Dr Dee – An English Opera.
 
Musically the show is excellent. Albarn does not limit himself to composing music that reflects the atmosphere of the period in which the play is set. He takes a more timeless approach using renaissance instruments to play modern folk music and also a sweeping dramatic score pushing forward the action.
 
Albarn’s performance is less successful; his rough and ready vocals are not as audible as those of the trained opera cast. Paul Atkinson’s striking tiered set places Albarn and the musicians (whom he conducts with a clenched fist) above the performers. It is hard to see any connection between the lyrics of his songs and the action on-stage. “A Powerful Thing” is an aching love song, beautifully sung in a breaking voice, but would have been more at home on the radio than as part of a narrative structure.  
 
Norris courts obscurity whereas some clarity is desperately needed. We infer that Dr John Dee was unhappy at being involved with Queen Elizabeth’s spymaster and did not like being known as a conjurer. But we never get to understand what he did want or, more importantly, why we should care. There is a confused effort to put Dee in the context of such English eccentrics and staples as Morris Men, civil servants and punks but The Kinks and Madness have better defined the nation’s character in song.
 
Visually the show is amazing. Katrina Lindsay’s lush costumes give us a towering spymaster accompanied by vicious carrion-birds. Atkinson’s sets are jaw-dropping, as the books of Dr Dee spill from his shelves forming walls and hiding places whilst still being a reminder of one of the things that Dee actually cared about.  
 
One of the rumours about Dr Dee was that he practised alchemy. Norris and Albarn’s opera isn’t lead but has yet to turn into gold.
 
– Dave Cunningham