Brilliant Corners

What didn't I love about the VK-80i? Though its sound is difficult to criticize, compared to some favorite tube amps, like the Manley Mahi or the Ampsandsound Red October, it can come across as a bit mechanical and studious, lacking the very last measures of presence, drama, and fun. Then again, those amps lack the BAT's admirable neutrality and ability to drive speakers of average sensitivity, so pick your poison.

Finally, in operation the VK-80i produces some positively Hadean heat—its power consumption dwarfs that of the ungodly-hot Line Magnetic—so if you live in the tropics or spend your summers in New York City, you may want to keep this in mind.

When I spoke to Victor Khomenko, I enjoyed his ex-Soviet engineer's low-key, sardonic demeanor. He struck me as intelligent, pragmatic, and decidedly not a bullshitter. His integrated amp, the least expensive one BAT makes, embodies the same qualities: the VK-80i can work in a variety of systems and sounds so good that I cannot imagine anyone disliking it. It's full of original and genuinely useful design, looks much better than it has to, and its price is entirely appropriately to its lofty level of performance. It will not produce the most ravishing sound you can hear—clearly being the work of an engineer rather than a poet—but it will extract plenty of meaning and emotion from your favorite recordings. Consider me a fan.

Ortofon Cadenza Bronze
Choosing a four-figure phono cartridge is a little like choosing a romantic partner. What's most important to you? Someone who shares your hobbies or politics or favorite shows? Someone with terrific friends who is kind to others? Someone who looks great naked? Or maybe someone who owns a $6.8 million oceanfront townhouse with a four-car garage and a paid-off mortgage?

Or perhaps, like the happily polyamorous, you're fortunate enough to have access to several options that you can vary according to your mood. But the main question remains: What qualities are crucial to you, and what combination makes someone a keeper?

As unusual qualities go, the one that got me interested in the Ortofon Cadenza Bronze MC phono cartridge ($2689; footnote 2) is its deliberately "flavored" tuning. Of course, every cartridge has a tuning, but few companies own up to it, as though any deviation from neutrality—whatever that concept may mean—is tantamount to admitting that it's okay to enjoy "colorations." In any case, according to Ortofon, each of the five cartridges in the Cadenza series was designed to have a particular sonic flavor. The Bronze, priced second from the top, is claimed to offer a touch of "romance" and "warmth."

I admit to being amused by the notion of "romance." It seems to embody the belief that in home audio, listening is supposed to be rigorous and austere, the equivalent of eating a bowl of plain yogurt. And that to enjoy listening is somehow decadent and unserious, like ending a nutritious meal with a sprinkles-and-chocolate-syrup-covered banana split and two lines of cocaine. The notion that enjoyment is the actual point of owning a hi-fi still sits badly with the armchair Edisons of this hobby.

Such hairshirt thinking epitomizes the tuning of many phono cartridges, particularly contemporary low-output moving coils. I'm not alone in finding many of them to lack body and produce wiry, fatiguing highs. The tuning of the Cadenza Bronze struck me not so much as a flavor but simply as a fine idea. I've heard promising things about the cartridge from listeners whose taste I trust, and though I tend to avoid venturing online to seek out anyone's opinion, a quick perusal of the interwebs suggested that the Ortofon is forgiving of mediocre recordings and makes long listening sessions easy. That sounded like my sort of thing.

Curious about howOrtofon achieves its particular tuning, I reached out to Louis Dorio of Ortofon USA. Every time I look for a simple answer, I encounter anything but, and this query proved no different. According to Dorio, the tuning of a cartridge is affected by nearly every design parameter, including the armature material, magnet composition, number of coil windings, coil wire, cantilever type, diamond shape, and even the way the diamond is polished. He also told me that the biggest factor influencing a cartridge's sound is the suspension design, including the choice of suspension material, correctly surmising that this opinion will make no one happy.

The 10.7gm Cadenza Bronze features a stainless steel and aluminum body, a useful output of 0.4mV, and a lowish compliance of 12µm/mN. Its tapered conical aluminum cantilever terminates in a nude Replicant stylus. Before aligning the cartridge in my Schick 12" tonearm and DS Audio HS-001 headshell, I reached out to fellow Stereophile columnist and record player setup expert Michael Trei. If the FBI had a division of Analog Crimes, Michael would almost certainly be appointed director. I asked him how he goes about dialing in SRA with radical stylus shapes like the Replicant, which contact the record with the leading edge of the diamond, making this parameter (and azimuth) critical. Michael told me that to determine the correct SRA with these types of cartridges, he listens for focus and depth as he gradually adjusts arm height.

Sure enough, I found that with the Cadenza Bronze, minute changes in SRA affected not the usual frequency-response tells but instead my ability to engage with the music. When SRA was off, the music sounded subtly diffuse and rhythmically disjointed. When it was dialed in, my foot tapped metronomically.

Lately I've been losing myself in the music of Art Pepper, the West Coast saxophonist whose stark, jittery playing sometimes reminds me of a stone skimming the surface of a pond. On "Softly, as in a Morning Sunrise," from a 1973 reissue of Gettin' Together (Contemporary Records S7573), Pepper's alto sounded appropriately bright and incisive but also colorful and rich. Some systems can make Pepper's treble range abrasive. The Ortofon made it highly listenable and also more lifelike and correct: I've heard plenty of live jazz and have yet to hear a saxophone that assaults the ears. Similarly, Jimmy Cobb's hi-hat was fully present, resonant, and coppery but never crossed over into sounding like white noise. All told, Ortofon's "warm" tuning of the Cadenza Bronze proved admirably subtle, lending recordings body and presence while dialing down sizzle and hi-fi artifacts like "air." I was never aware of missing deleted highs or finding the bass overripe. To me it simply sounded more natural than many moving coil cartridges.

I'm happy to say that the Cadenza Bronze proved outstanding in most other sonic respects: It threw as large of a soundstage as the recording allowed, excavated oodles of detail, surrounded voices and instruments with plenty of space, and brought out superb dynamic expression. On "This Is the Last Day of Our Acquaintance," from a 2015 reissue of the late Sinead O'Connor's inimitable I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got (Ensign 0825646089505), the sudden entrance of the drums and the simultaneous upswell in volume proved exhilarating. And on "Black Boys on Mopeds," one of the most moving and effective songs ever composed about injustice, the Ortofon rendered the reverb around O'Connor's voice and the backing vocals not only clearly audible but also musically significant.

Compared to some more expensive cartridges like the Dynavector Te Kaitora Rua and the SteinMusic Aventurin 6, the Cadenza Bronze lacks a bit of texture and excitement. Its presentation isn't quite as fine-grained and intricately shaded, and it's slightly less dependable at getting at the music's dramatic core.

But the Ortofon bested every cartridge I've heard in one important respect: its ability to reject surface noise. This was particularly apparent not on really beat-up records but on those in fairly average condition. Playing sides I've heard dozens of times, the familiar, low-level crackling and hiss were simply gone. I'm not sure whether we have the radical stylus profile or another factor to thank for this, but I found the silent surfaces produced by the Cadenza Bronze downright thrilling.

The Ortofon's knack for noise suppression, along with its humane, forgiving frequency response, makes it a godsend for records that aren't "demonstration quality"—in other words, most of the records I own and love. I found myself reaching for discs that, shamefully, I've neglected simply because they are indifferently recorded or noisy. I want to apologize to these old friends—yes, I'm talking to you, Biz Markie, Mission of Burma, and Dean Martin. It was so good to hear you again. And hats off to Ortofon for creating a true music lover's cartridge. When you get over your infatuation with flashier, tizzier moving coils, you may find yourself wanting to settle down with the Cadenza Bronze.

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Footnote 2: Ortofon AS, Stavangervej 9, DK-4900 Nakskov, Denmark. CVR 17015028. Web: https://ortofon.com/. US distributor: Ortofon Inc. 500 Executive Blvd, Suite 102, Ossining, NY 10562. Tel: (914) 762-8646. Fax: (914) 762-8649.