Gramophone Dreams

Holding that thought, I asked Kal to demonstrate his meticulously executed 5.3 channel system. Which he did by playing original five-channel orchestral recordings using JRiver's Media Center and Dirac Live.

What I noticed immediately as I stared at three (L/C/R) KEF Blade Two Metas backlit by a fierce October sun was a profound sense of refined spectral balance. No sounds seemed overemphasized or out of place. The image that floated in front of me was considerably taller and wider and deeper back and further forward than anything I'd previously experienced with conventional box speakers.

Kal's eight precisely stationed speakers and subwoofers presented a vivid picture of a full orchestra on stage with me in the audience—surrounded on all sides by evenly dispersed energy. I did not hear the two KEF LS60s positioned directly to my sides. But I could hear well-formed portions of sound energy near and around my seated body, which was about 13' away from the center channel.

What struck me right away was how evenly illuminated the entire sound image looked: no hot spots, glares, or flares. No flat shadows without detail. No bleached-out strings or blurred reed instruments. What I observed was a carefully sculpted, extremely focused, fine-grained mass of energy, which occupied the entire room with a genteel presence.

After sampling several recordings, I asked if I could hear the same 5.3 channel recording without the Dirac Live correction. This comparison showed me how much and how little that processing was responsible for the refined balance, even lighting, and sharp focus I raved about when it was on. With the speaker correction off, the sound became messier, fuzzier, and less predictable as it moved forward, but it was still attractive high-resolution sound. Kal reminded me, "Everything you are hearing has been downsampled to 192kHz."

And, surprise, surprise: When Kal switched to a stereo file of the same recording, mono-loving Herb clearly preferred the 5.3 channel rendition.

When he played a DSD file, it sounded more like PCM than I expected. It did not exhibit that grainless, preternatural lighting I get from my HoloAudio May DAC, or the super-sorted resolution of my dCS Lina DAC. Nevertheless, Kal's Merging Devices Hapi II multichannel DAC converted DSP into nicely saturated tones with contrasts resembling an Ansel Adams photo.

As I was leaving, while putting on my shoes at the dining room table near the door, I asked Kal if he would please play one of those orchestral tracks recorded in 5.3. I wanted to see how 5.3 sounded off axis from outside the room.

What I heard made me smile because from the next room I could hear the 5.3 sound doing its thing in three dimensions. It sounded more voluminous, complete, and well-organized than stereo does from my kitchen.

Even from a distance, the sound was alive and super-balanced. I predicted the sound from the next room would be "mono-ized," but it wasn't. From this off-axis outside listening position, the sound system's soundspace remained mapped.

The orchestra was no longer in front of me, but I could see its players and their instruments, in some detail, hovering around the front speakers. I never dreamed soundstage mapping could be durable like that. The experience was mesmerizing. And unforgettable.

I identify as an audiophile because I enjoy watching well-tuned sound systems put on a good show, which is what Kal's carefully curated, expertly crafted system did. And look! That's me you see standing, applauding for an encore. Bravo, Kal!

Audio-Technica ART20 Phono Cartridge
Everyone who knows me knows I think most audio components sound like they look. I doubt I'm alone in this view, because I think it's pretty obvious how audio components reflect the sonic, aesthetic, and engineering ethos of the cultures that created them. I think it is obvious how England, Germany, China, and Japan represent distinctly different world views, each reflecting the attitudes, history, and traditions of people.

While working my way through life, I've endeavored to paint like the Chinese, think like a German, listen like a Brit, dream like the Russians, and make objects like the Japanese. I admire Japanese culture and aesthetics because they feel more closely connected with intellect, and the life of the mind, than my own culture's.

That's the chief reason my most favorite audio objects are phono cartridges made in Japan. Their materials-based sound aesthetic reflects the sacredness of Japanese craft, the precision of Japanese manufacturing, and the Buddha-like mindfulness of Japanese listening culture.

My current hut-and-path lifestyle, and most of what I've accomplished in audio, have been inspired by Japanese aesthetics, the foundation of which was laid by grass hut tea master Sen no Rikyū (1522–1591). Sen no Rikyuū's "rustic view" combined with the Ukiyo-e notion of a floating world peopled by outsider artists and prostitutes to influence every aspect of my art and life. In audio, these outsider urges put me on a path of explorations that included low-power triode amplifiers, multicell horns, idler-drive turntables, and exotic Japanese cartridges like Audio-Technica's $2900 AT-ART20 moving coil that I am auditioning (footnote 3).

The ART20's curvy gleaming-chrome body looks flashy and futuristic. Very unrustic. But if I said, "This cartridge sounds flashy and futuristic," would its Japanese creators be disturbed by that declaration? I doubt it.

And if I said, "This cartridge looks like it was created by intelligent persons in lab coats," I'm sure some audiophiles would exclaim, "And that's how it sounds." And Audio-Technica's engineers would be smiling pridefully.

According to Audio-Technica's website, the ART20 is a 9gm moving coil with a generating system based on A-T's $1500 ART9XI but with a 0.6mm thicker front yoke that increases magnetic flux density, and the voltage output from 0.5mV to 0.55mV, without adding more coil turns, or raising its 12 ohm coil impedance.

The ART20's cantilever is specified as a solid boron shaft with a nude, square shank, line contact stylus secured with a titanium anchoring plate for "enhanced rigidity and low tip mass." The back part of the cantilever—behind the coils—is tapered in steps to, I presume, reduce mass and distribute resonances. According to the ART20's specifications, its coils are wound with PCOCC wire and move in a field powered by neodymium magnets and a Permendur yoke. Vertical tracking force is specified at 1.6–2.0gm with 1.8gm "standard." I did my auditions at the standard force on my Sorane SA-1.2 tonearm with a Jelco HS-15 headshell.

Audio-Technica's ART20 features an aluminum body covered by a titanium shell with an elastomer undercover. Its black bottom, chrome fuselage, and bronze-colored support suggest a bright vibrant clarity with ink-black silences. Which pretty much nails its sound.

What I heard: The first music I played with the ART20 was one of Beethoven's poetic masterpieces, the first of his late quartets: String Quartet No.12 in E-Flat Major, Op.127 performed by the Budapest String Quartet on a six-eye Columbia disc (ML 4503).

With the ART20, this recording sounded as brilliant and tone wonderful as it did with Nagaoka's MP-200 but was now dramatically more transparent. It exhibited none of the stiffness or dynamic restraint most cartridges display before break-in. It resolved in a way that made my Falcon Gold Badges sound like electrostatic speakers: sparkplug fast, with a crystalline spatiality, and Nikkor-lens clarity.

When my need to assess tone and transparency arises, I often resort to an old favorite. Josquin Des Préz: Missa Pange Lingua/Motets & Instrumental Pieces, a Decca Gold Label disc with a green rag paper gatefold cover and a booklet that explains the structure and origins of each composition (Decca Stereo LP DL 79410). New York's Pro Musica Motet Choir and Wind Ensemble (and Decca's recording team) make this a demonstration-quality recording I will never stop listening to. It's a purist Decca LP that sounds raw and direct, and minimally enhanced by studio doctoring.

With the ART20 in its grooves, that Josquin Des Préz came out of my speakers crisp clear and skin-tingling fresh—like a refreshing splash of cool water. Think bright and alive.

After about 20 sides, I put on Songs by Stephen Foster (Nonesuch LP H-71268). Foster's super-fun "Nothing But a Plain Old Soldier" grabbed my attention and opened my ears by sounding brusque, immediate, and squeaky sparkling clean. With the Audio-Technica, low-level details were pronounced and microfocused. Playing into PrimaLuna's EVO 100 phono stage and loaded with 100 ohms, this clarity I witnessed was not sterile, or overstated, or fake, or off-putting. It wasn't thin or gray. It was starkly clear, with a splash of flesh and blood. Baritone Leslie Guinn's singing accompanied by Gilbert Kalish on melodeon felt gay and mirthful in a way that made me smile all the way through. (I mean who doesn't love silly songs or the tones of a melodeon?) The beauty of the ART20's sparkling clarity was how it kept my mind on the song. The spirits trapped inside the recording were whispering out from the grooves, "Look here. Listen to this. Isn't it delightful?" The best part was that the ART20 made each Stephen Foster song into a smile-inducing earworm.

The ART20 played that Foster disc maybe 10% cooler than my Dynavector XX-2A, and possibly 20% cooler than my Benz Micro Gullwing SLR, which plays it 10% warm. This "coolness" I'm describing reflects how I visually perceive the "cast" or the temperature of light illuminating the soundstage; it is not a frequency response anomaly.

It hit me while I was playing Money Jungle featuring Duke Ellington, Charlie Mingus, and Max Roach (United Artists Records LP UAS 5632) that I should increase the ART20's loading from 100 to 200 ohms. And dogs be knighted! That small change appeared to flesh out more energy in the 50–500Hz region, thereby creating a broader, taller soundscape and a more relaxed presentation. Bass notes felt more vibrant—200 ohms felt more natural than 100 ohms, so I left it at that for a while.

Playing Skip James's Devil Got My Woman (Vanguard LP VSD 79273), the ART20 moved these transcendental songs along with a brisk fluidity that exposed every drop of Skip's seductive confidence. I know this sounds corny, but with the cartridge loaded at 200 ohms, the sound of this profoundly good Vanguard recording came through with a pale white wine– tinted transparency that I found extremely appealing. When I tried a 500 ohm load, baritones became more baritone, fuzzy tones got fuzzier, and textures became twice as thick. Subjectively, the octaves between 50Hz and 500Hz moved forwards in the presentation, and that white wine transparency was now sporting a burgundy tint that I wasn't sure if I liked.

When I played a 1974 Nippon Phonogram Company reissue of Sarah Vaughan (Mercury/EmArcy SFX-7332), I alternated loading between 100, 200, and 500 ohms, and decided that 200 ohms was steering the ART20's nude stylus with the greatest certainty, resulting in the cleanest, quietest clarity.

At $2900, Audio-Technica's ART20 moving coil is an exciting-to-use top-shelf reference quality cartridge—at a middle-shelf price. What's not to love.

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Footnote 3: Audio-Technica U.S., Inc., 1221 Commerce Dr., Stow, OH 44224. Tel: (330) 686-2600. Web: audio-technica.com