Jason Victor Serinus

Much of the explanation zoomed by far too fast for one not trained in shorthand to record, but the surprisingly huge soundstage and impressive bass of a system variously introduced as "Everyman's Stereo" and "The Audiophile's Training Wheel System" made their mark. Streamed in 16/44.1 from Spotify, Joe Bonamassa's ""High Water Everywhere" sounded quite fine. Nor was this system shy when it came to delivering the edgy nastiness of Alice Cooper's "Welcome to my Nightmare."

For huge sound in a huge room, you needed to look no further than the Schaumburg Renaissance Convention Center's Schaumburg F. Played at full volume, the momentous, quasi-apocalyptic opening of Richard Strauss's Also Sprach Zarathustra, aka the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey, virtually knocked me back a row. Only the deep bass, which was eaten alive by the room's spongy air walls, suffered. Which means that the deepest organ pedals on the forthcoming superbly recorded 7-CD Strauss set from conductor Andris Nelsons (heard in 24/96) had about the same weight as on the hi-rez digital transfer of Fritz Reiner's famous RCA Living Stereo recording with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.

As early as 9AM on Friday, April 22, early registrants began wandering the halls of Chicago's Renaissance Schaumburg Hotel and Convention Center. By 9:30AM, the first semi-crazed rush for vinyl old and new had begun in The Record Fair. And by 10AM, music was resounding in all its glory in the 138 exhibit rooms and 10 floors that comprise AXPONA 2022.

Mendelssohn: Violin Sonatas, The Danish National Vocal Ensemble, Marcus Creed, Cond.: Lux Aeterna, Bruckner: Symphony No.2 and Marcel Zaes: Parallel Prints.

United Strings Of Europe: Renewal, Brahms: Violin-Piano Sonatas 1–3; F-A-E Sonata: Scherzo, Florence Price: Symphony No.3; The Mississippi River; Ethiopia's Shadow in America and Matthew Aucoin: Orphic Moments.

It felt as though everyone had stopped breathing, so intent was their focus. I was in an exhibit room at the Rocky Mountain Audio Fest 2018. I doubt that anyone present spoke German, but after soprano Sandrine Piau's recording, with pianist Susan Manoff, of Carl Loewe's "Ach Neige, Du Schmer-Zenreiche" (ah, incline, you who are laden with sorrows) began to fill the space, the silence was so deep that you could almost hear hearts beat. as Piau intoned words by Wolfgang von Goethe that spoke of a loss so painful that it pierced the heart and bore into one's bones, everyone present felt the emptiness and loss in Piau's voice and Lizst's setting.