Floor Loudspeaker Reviews

Here's a hard truth: A written review of a full-sized speaker—any speaker, really—is, at best, semi-useful. We all listen differently, we have different musical tastes, our system electronics are different, and our listening rooms vary a lot. You will gain a general picture of a speaker's capabilities and foibles from John Atkinson's measurements, and I can tell you how the speakers sound to me, in my room. But that's it. You need to hear them for yourself before making a buying decision. The best I can do is tell you how my music brain felt when the speakers were in my house and making music.

But hey, that's better than nothing. If you're in the market for a pair of modestly sized, reasonably priced floorstanding loudspeakers, I encourage you to read on as I describe the lively musical times I spent with the Sonus faber Sonetto V G2s ($6499/pair).

An ancient connection: Monitor Audio began in 1972 when John Bartlett, founder of the innovative retail chain Audio T, introduced me to Mike Beeny, manager of an Audio T branch near Cambridge, and Mo Iqbal, a local electronics wizard. Mike suggested that Mo and I join him to start a loudspeaker company. Monitor was a fashionable hi-fi term, and I suggested we name it Monitor Audio Ltd. Each director put £300 into the company account. It was registered as a PLC at an address in Teversham, Cambridgeshire. We rented an upper floor office in a warehouse close to Mo's home, since Mo worked all hours. There was additional workspace in his huge double garage. Mike directed sales, Mo was responsible for production management and accounts, and I took the position of technical director for research and development. I also helped supervise production. Lorna Parker was our office secretary.

After launching a handful of increasingly viable designs, we reached a then-astonishing turnover of £1 million in our first year and enjoyed a very successful showing at the Paris Festival du Son. But by this point, I was close to an overwork-related breakdown and reluctantly resigned.

Active speakers make sense. The amplifiers, crossovers, and drivers are designed as a unit, so the design isn't compromised by the need to interface with components with unknown electrical or acoustical characteristics (except for the room, and that can't be helped). Concurrent design and testing of the various pieces can result in an integrated, through-designed system. Plus, the elegant simplicity that active speakers bring to a system just appeals to me.

Like many audiophiles, I've found myself intrigued by the variety of approaches that are taken to achieve the same goals: point source, line source, panels, horns. Whenever I've heard horns paired with a flea-powered amp, the dynamics have always impressed. I've consistently heard a jump factor that makes music feel remarkably alive. The combination of these two traits, though—horns plus active—is quite rare.

It's funny how we discover some music in unexpected, twisting ways. A friend recently sent me the real estate listing for a beautiful home in Deer Isle, Maine, about an hour from where I live. I gawked at the pictures and calculated I'd need to work for Stereophile for another 127 years before I'd have enough dough to buy it. Then I noticed something unusual on one of the walls of the place: lots of gold records. Google helped me figure out that the house had belonged to the late singer-songwriter Dan Fogelberg. I knew the name but was unfamiliar with his music. Minutes later, I was playing the studio version of "Nether Lands," seemingly named after my country of birth. A beautifully orchestrated piece with restrained woodwinds and soaring strings, it reminded me of the best of Van Dyke Parks and of some post–Pet Sounds Brian Wilson songs. I played it straight through three times.

Part of the reason I was so smitten with the recording lay in the engaging, naturalistic presentation it received from the handmade-in-Switzerland Piega Gen2 811 floorstanders ($30,000/pair) that had just made their way to my listening room.

Ah, Denmark. Land of the Vikings and blue-eyed, blond-haired folk with faces sculpted just so. I loved my week there as a Stereophile correspondent and member of a scraggly scrum of audio journalists whisked to DALI headquarters on a promotional junket.

Aside from its universal attractiveness, what struck me during my stay in the southernmost and smallest of the Scandinavian countries was how by North American standards the more densely populated cities I visited, Copenhagen and Aarhus, seemed orderly and clean. Cars, pedestrians, and cyclists kept tightly to their lanes. I saw no cigarette butts on the sidewalk and only sparse pockets of graffiti. There seemed to be a natural, sequential flow to everything—an evenness and balance that was close to idyllic.

Outside its bigger cities, Denmark looks pastoral, with long stretches of grassy fields sporadically interrupted by broad bodies of water, and bucolic towns that seem to have sprouted in the middle of nowhere. It's in these towns that a lot of Danish hi-fi is made: DALI in Nørager (population 1143); Dynaudio in Skanderborg (population 20,000). Skanderborg contains evidence of human settlements belonging to the earliest Nordic Stone Age, starting some 100,000 years ago.

Dynaudio doesn't go back quite that far; the company was founded in 1977...

Evaluating a loudspeaker that would become Stereophile's 2011 Product of the Year, Art Dudley, at the time the magazine's editor-at-large, wrote, "The Voxativ Ampeggio went beyond sounding good: More than once, with too many records to mention, I found myself stopping to marvel at its brilliantly good pitch certainty. In terms of being able to simply nail a note, whether in isolation or tucked within a whole string of the little bastards, I've heard few other speakers this accomplished. And while it's one thing to focus on such a characteristic for a moment at a time, it's quite another to bask in it subconsciously—and the Voxativs allowed me to do just that."

"I've now encountered a single-driver dynamic speaker I could live with," Art concluded. "In most audio reviews that's faint praise, but in this one it's a revelation."

My first encounter with an Audiovector loudspeaker was at the 2019 Toronto Audiofest. Driven by colorful (both sonically and visually) Alluxity electronics, the R 3s sounded pure and very fine. As I sat listening to the R 3 Arretés, the R 8 Arreté, their big brother, sat quietly in the corner, seemingly pleased with the performance of its smaller sibling.

I ended up reviewing the R 8 instead of the R 3, which in retrospect hardly seems fair:It was the R3 I heard that day, the R 3 that attracted my attention and got me interested in the brand.