In the Golden Age

By Bill Heck
 

Ah, to have lived in the Golden Age of…well, anything. The Golden Age of philosophy? Ancient Athens, hobnobbing with Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. Less ambitiously, there’s the Golden Age of American literature: maybe the mid-20th century, when we could hang out with Faulkner and Hemingway, or perhaps earlier so we could look over Melville’s shoulder. There’s even a Golden Age of American Industry for a few postwar decades, when American industrial might was unchallenged and a husband (it was always a husband, wasn’t it?) could provide for an entire family with a single factory job.
 
Then there was the Golden Age of American Classical Music, in the pre-WWII and postwar eras when giants roamed the land: Reiner, Szell, Ormandy, and Stokowski and their city orchestras, when first radio and then television networks competed to be highbrow: NBC even had its own symphony orchestra!
 
And the Golden Age of High Fidelity? Well, that could have been in the 1950s – 60s when the classic Marantz, McIntosh, KLH and then Advent appeared, or perhaps in the 1970s – 80s when exotic “high end” brands arose, tubes all aglow: Audio Research, Conrad-Johnson, Mark Levinson.
 
You may have noticed that all these Golden Ages have something in common: they happened in some magical past. We hear that philosophy has been all downhill since those smart Greeks; literature has succumbed to the way of Kindle; classical music is a mere footnote to popular culture; American industry is a shadow of its former self. And audio? Alas, High Fidelity has given way to MP3 and earbuds, with a few remaining enclaves accessible only to those with megabucks for gigantic amplifiers and massive speakers – and even multi-thousand dollar cables!

I won’t try to speak for philosophy or literature or even manufacturing, but there’s something odd about the tales of the demise of classical music. If serious music is sunk, how is it that we see a steady stream of classical recordings being released each and every week? And how is it that even newly minted musicians, those so obscure that only their mothers have heard of them, amaze us with their talents on a daily basis? Listen critically to some of those giants of yesteryear: Schnabel and Richter were known to hit some clinkers, and some of those legendary orchestras seemed occasionally lost in thickets of (sometimes wrong) notes. The level of accomplishment of even the rawest rookies these days is amazing, as they confront works formerly thought nearly unplayable and toss them off with ease. Orchestras in cities that you never heard of could play rings around some of the fabled bands of a few decades ago. And wait – how is it that those cities you never heard of even have orchestras? Still more: what about those contemporary composers who are once again writing music that ordinary music lovers actually want to hear? While there’s no denying that the classical music world has issues to confront, in many ways we are in the Golden Age of Classical Music: more music, and more ways to access it, than ever before.
 

But what about the Golden Age of High Fidelity? It’s true that earbuds and Alexa speakers get the headlines. It’s also true that many of the stereo shops of a decade or two ago have gone the way of the dodo, and too many of those that remain seem to specialize in multi-channel systems optimized to produce the sounds of car chases, laser weapons, and earthquakes. But quietly, behind the scenes, we have entered a true Golden Age of High Fidelity sound reproduction. And you, my friend, are the beneficiary.
 
So what do I mean by a “Golden Age?” Just this: audio equipment has evolved to a point at which:
 
· it is easy to obtain music sources – and the equipment to play those sources – that would have provoked awe just a few years ago; and
· doing so requires less specialized knowledge, effort, and commitment than ever before; and
· those sources and equipment are available at extraordinarily low cost, affordable to those with even moderate incomes.
 
Let’s take these in order, starting with the sources and equipment. Incredibly, the CD standard, developed back in 1980, has turned out to be capable of music reproduction that is rarely surpassed. Perhaps some people do hear small differences between CD and “high resolution” audio, although evidence beyond mere assertion is spotty, but the real point is that the plain old CD standard is remarkably robust and satisfying.
 
Moreover, a little listening should convince you that recording processes and techniques now routinely deliver superb results – not perfect, and of course some recordings are better than others, but a high percentage of contemporary recordings sound very good. Yes, some (a few) older recordings still hold their own, but the batting average seems much higher these days, and the best of today surely equals or even – oh heresy! – surpasses those fabled recorded masterpieces of yesteryear.
 
Meanwhile, even the best recordings need to be played back through a good sound system. Here again, the technological progress has been astounding. CD players, digital-to-audio converters (DACs), music streaming devices, preamplifiers and amplifiers now boast specifications and performance so good that it is difficult to find measurable or demonstrable audible differences among them. Yes, I know that the previous sentence invites derision and flaming comments from those convinced otherwise by the incessant advertising that passes for audio reviewing in some quarters. But even bastions of audio perfection like The Absolute Sound seem to admit, albeit sometimes reluctantly and only between the lines, that many humble components are really, really good. Meanwhile, the more objectively oriented world, as represented by sites like audiosciencereview.com, produce both measurements and listening results that indicate staggeringly good performance over and over. The point is not that “everything sounds the same,” but rather that excellence is readily available.
 
Turning to my second point above, the mere availability of first-rate components isn’t much help if you need to spend months or years learning enough to identify them, more months looking for them, and a lifetime learning to adjust and tweak them to optimize their performance. Who has time for that?
 

But, in fact, high quality components are easy to find. As the quality of even entry level components has skyrocketed, the problem of finding good stuff has decreased proportionally: if many components are now pretty good, your odds of finding satisfactory ones are high. We have not reached that state of audio nirvana in which components are indistinguishable commodities, but consider the contrast with even the recent past. Back in the earlier supposed golden ages, say the 1970s, the typical audiophile might haunt electronics shops weekend after weekend, searching for that elusive combination of components that would work well together, the strengths of each offsetting the weaknesses of the other. And let’s not even get started on craziness like adjusting tube bias or figuring out which transformer tap worked best with which speakers. (If you have no idea what I’m talking about, consider yourself lucky.) In the more recent past, the search may have been easier, but one at least needed to identify multiple types of components, learn the function of each and how to connect them, and assemble complementary units into a working system. Now consider something like the NAD C 658 unit that I reviewed some months back: it’s one box. That’s it. Oh wait, you need an amplifier; if that’s too complicated, you can purchase a similar unit that combines most or all of this same functionality plus the amp into one box. But wait, don’t you need a CD player? Not even that. Instead, you can use streaming to pull music out of thin air, so to speak, at CD or higher resolution.
 
And that brings us to the third point: low cost. Let’s build a simple, low cost system; I’ll refer to a few brands as examples, but please understand that there are plenty of choices that would be highly satisfactory.
 
First, we’ll use a streaming unit. You could get something like the Bluesound PowerNode, which combines streaming with an integrated amplifier for just under $1,000 (less for a perfectly good used unit), or any of a number of similar units, or even separate streamers and amplifiers, for not much more. For that price, you get competent audio streaming at high resolution and sufficient power to drive some decent speakers.
 
The contrast with previous alleged Golden Ages is stark. Oh sure, those lovely Marantz tube units back in the 1960’s were only hundreds of dollars – but in real dollars, i.e., accounting for inflation, prices for high quality audio equipment that have never been lower. (And remember, in those halcyon days of yore, you needed both a preamp and power amp, along with a turntable with tonearm and cartridge.) Moreover, those old tube units required periodic and often expensive maintenance and adjustment: replacing tubes was a periodic ritual. In addition, those of us of a certain age remember when every small town had at least one electronics repair shop, needed because those old electronics broke with distressing regularity. Modern solid-state stuff, not so much.
 
You still need speakers, and again it is technology to the rescue. Advances in science and engineering have made formerly exotic materials available and usable at low prices, and advances in computation have made formerly onerous and time-consuming design work much easier and faster. The result is a generation of widely available, reasonably priced, high-performance speakers. Of course, you can spend a lot on speakers, and expensive speakers often (though not always) yield better performance, but you can get into the game with very good speakers at very low prices. Let’s start you out with speakers at $1,000: they won’t shake the room with thunderous bass or wake up the dog with ultra-high frequencies, but they can sound quite credible in a basic system.
 
Our total allocation so far is around $2,000 brand new, full retail. (Lest you think such a number totally outrageous, just consider that a high-end television can easily be more.) Not pocket change, but as a long-term investment, not eye-watering either. If you find used equipment, subtract some more. Will you be satisfied forever? Maybe; if not, you can improve things incrementally, again at low cost, in one or more of the following ways.
 
· Upgrade the speakers. This is the obvious place to start: the possibilities – and the price levels – are endless. At our introductory cost level, even small increments in price will buy you significant upgrades in sound.
· Add room correction: This can produce major gains; one easy option is a $400 – 500 standalone unit from the likes of miniDSP. Alternatively, spend a little more up front and some streaming units include room correction for free.
· Add a CD player: as the streaming device likely has a digital input, you can get away with a cheap or used player functioning only as a transport. $100 - 200?
· Add a subwoofer: There are plenty of competent choices starting well under $1,000.
 
Finally, there’s the music. You can have high-quality audio streaming for a dirt cheap $10-15 per month. Even if that price doubles or triples (to better support the musicians), it’s still cheap, especially considering that the monthly fee buys you access to a library of hundreds of thousands of albums – audio nirvana indeed.
 
Does all this make our own time the Golden Age of Audio? There are those who say no, who lament the fact that it’s too easy; who long for the days when, by golly, you really had to work to put together your audio system; who whine that it doesn’t count if you don’t have to spend endless hours getting it right (or even getting it working at all). It’s the same syndrome as with the golden age of cars: those Jaguars, MGs, Triumphs, early Corvettes were so beautiful, so fun, symbolizing the freedom of the open road. I understand that nostalgia, and I, too, feel the appeal of those early cars – until I want to go somewhere. By any objective measure, today’s cars are better than those vehicles of yesteryear: more reliable, faster, mostly better handling, more economical, safer, etc. Similarly, we can understand the appeal of glowing tubes, monster amps, giant but inefficient speakers – until we just want to listen to music. Is the audio hobby in a golden age? Maybe not, but audio is.
 
A final note:
There are supposed audio gurus who will tell you that putting together a decent audio system condemns you to spending hours and hours tweaking this and that, putting little gizmos that rely on effects unknown to physics on top of and under your components, endlessly comparing freaking wires – and that you most certainly need to subscribe to their YouTube channels and haunt their websites so that they can guide you through this foreign landscape. Forget all that, at least for now. Get the basics under control. If you are inclined to mess around with such things, do so later. (Personally, I recommend that you continue in your blissful ignorance and spend your time listening to music.)
 
Even more annoyingly, there will be those who sneer that you can’t possibly appreciate the nuances of good music because you haven’t spent their threshold amount, whether that’s $10K or $100K, or you haven’t performed the proper rituals or penances of tweaking and fiddling. If that happens, just smile politely, go home, turn on the music, and enjoy your time in the Golden Age of High Fidelity.
 
BH

Beethoven: Symphonies Nos. 5 & 7 (K2HD review)

Carlos Kleiber, Vienna Philharmonic. K2HD Mastering 480 862-4.

By John J. Puccio

Most of us recognized long ago that the least-expensive way to listen to good sound was not just to buy the best-available (yet most-affordable) playback equipment but to seek out the best-available source material. For quite a while now that has meant remasters of older recordings by companies like JVC, FIM/LIM, Hi-Q, Classic CD, HDTT, Sheffield Labs, Mobile Fidelity, and the like. Alas, many of these companies are gone, yet hope springs eternal. JVC is still making the occasional XRCD, HDTT keeps plugging along, and Sheffield and Mo-Fi are at least still in business.

Which brings us to a secondary concern: namely, the choice of material to remaster. Often in my experience, companies have chosen products that sounded good but were of dubious quality in terms of performance. And sometimes vice versa. On the present recording, however, the mastering company K2HD (see below) has released two unqualified great performances using the K2 mastering process, and there’s hardly anything to complain about: We get two terrific performances in good, remastered sound. Well, “hardly” anything to complain about (see below for more on that).

Since its release in the mid 1970s, these Beethoven recordings by the late Austrian conductor Carlos Kleiber (1930-2004) have been considered by many classical-music critics as the gold standard for recordings of the Fifth and Seventh Symphonies. Ever since its days on vinyl, the Fifth in particular has long been my own go-to recording for this work.

In a brief booklet essay, music critic Peter Cosse writes “...in the world of recording there are three kinds of artist. One kind regards the medium as a permanent opportunity to place themselves and their musical comrades before the public. They treat discs as pages in an audio diary. A second, minute group turns its back. They refuse to document big musical occasions, insist on the impossibility of repeating the experience, and thus place all their faith in their listeners’ memories. A third group, also a rather small one, does not dismiss the medium altogether but is very, very choosy. Carlos Kleiber is one of these last… His all too infrequent Philharmonic Subscriptions Concerts in Vienna have each and every one set the musical world ablaze, and, like these performances of Beethoven here, left it in a state of enlightened, redeeming enchantment.”

For those music lovers who may be unfamiliar with Maestro Kleiber, I should point out that he is widely regarded as a legendary conductor, one of the all-time greats. However, one of the reasons not everyone may have heard about him is that he made only nine studio recordings. Yes, nine. And two of them are included on this CD!

Anyway, Kleiber brings a unique personal touch to the scores, more flexible in tempo and dynamics than most other conductors while remaining faithful to the score. All the same, this is epic-sounding Beethoven. Maybe not so noble or monumental as Klemperer in his old Philharmonia recordings, but close. Nor is Kleiber quite as exhilarating as Reiner with the Chicago Symphony. Yet Kleiber projects a spark unmatched by anyone. It is easy to see why so many critics and classical music fans have considered these recordings to be reference standards. The Fifth, especially, seems more than capable of leaving listeners in a “state of enlightened, redeeming enchantment.” Kleiber’s way with the Fifth has certainly done that for me on every occasion I’ve visited it. Kleiber’s Seventh, maybe not as much. I’ve always found his Seventh a tad cool and distant, although I still hear that aforementioned spark. Whatever, they are performances every classical music listener should hear.

Producer Werner Mayer and engineer Hans-Peter Schweigmann recorded the Symphony No. 5 in March and April 1974 and No. 7 in November 1975 and January 1976 at the Musikvereinsaal, Vienna. Then, in 1995 the folks at DG remastered both recordings and re-released them together on a single CD, followed a little later by another CD issue in their “Originals” line.

Finally, we have the K2HD remastering using K2 processing, which has been a part of JVC’s meticulous XRCD mastering program since 1987. K2HD in its current form is a development of Victor Studios, who describe it like this: “The development of K2 was started in response to calls from recording engineers in Victor Studio. They objected to the common idea that there was absolutely no change in sound quality no matter how many times the original data was copied when the music media is transferred from analog records across to digital CDs. Because digitalizing sound is encoded in combinations of zeros and ones. Although no changes occur in theory, the studio engineers claimed that there was a clear difference between the sound quality of the original master and the copied sub-master. So the engineers at JVCKENWOOD set about to clarify the reason for this. Subsequently, it was discovered that although the digital data was exactly the same, electrical distortion (jitter, rippling), etc. occurred when the data was being recorded and saved, which had an adverse effect when converting music played back in digital into analog, thereby proving that changes did occur in sound quality. An attempt by the two engineers to improve the changes in sound quality that occurred at this time led to the original version of K2, which was named the ‘K2 Interface.’

Efforts in creating high-quality sound of digital sources with K2, which started from a signal transmission system at a music content production studio, will continue to evolve and expand from being featured in playback equipment to the remastering of songs, cutting records, and more.”

Whatever that “more” means. Insofar as the K2HD remastering of Kleiber’s Beethoven is concerned, the sound is pretty good. In fact, I was pleasantly surprised to note how well the original engineering held up. It might not be quite as transparent or as spacious as some other audiophile recordings, and there may be just a touch of hardness from time to time in the massed strings; but overall, it sounds pretty good in its remastered form.

For my listening, I placed the K2HD disc in one CD player and the regular CD in another, using my own, proprietary switching system (my wife) to move back and forth between the two. Results: the K2HD disc sounded better in almost every comparison, even when adjusted for differing playback levels (the K2HD plays a couple of decibels louder). The differences were small, to be sure, but discernable. The K2HD disc sounded clearer, with detail marginally more pointed, a light veil having been removed from in front of the speakers. In addition to slightly better transparency came a perceptible increase (although again a barely perceptible increase) in dynamic levels and impact. Nevertheless, without having the two discs side by side, I’m sure I would not have noticed any differences at all. And, incidentally, the improvement showed up even when I changed out the discs between the two CD players to be sure I wasn’t hearing the sound of the machines instead of the CD’s.

So, big differences? No. Differences worth paying up to three or four times more for the K2HD over the regular DG disc? Ah, there’s the rub, a question that only the buyer can answer. If you love the Kleiber performances (and you have the money to spend), you might want them in the very best possible sound, no matter how small the improvement.

And then there’s the problem of finding the disc, which may be an insurmountable difficulty in itself. K2HD released the product a few years back, it sold out quickly, and as of this writing it is hard to find. Even Elusive Disc has had it on back-order for the better part of a year. But what is success without a little effort? If I found it, so can you.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Massenet: Ballet Music (XRCD24/K2 review)

Le Cid. Also, Scenes Pittoresques; The Last Sleep of the Virgin; Offenbach: La Belle Helene; Berlioz: Dance of the Sylphs; Minuet of the Will-O’-the-Wisps. Louis Fremaux, City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra. Klavier/JVC VICJ-035-1107.

By John J. Puccio

To be honest, I don’t think audio recording has improved all that much since the introduction of home stereo almost seventy years ago. Sure, there have been some big changes, like Dolby noise reduction and digital engineering, but they haven’t always resulted in actual improvements. The real improvements have come in mastering techniques, transferring original recordings to LP, CD, SACD, or download. Here is where a number of companies over the years came up with unique strategies to perfect the art. In the old vinyl days, Sheffield Labs, for instance, had their direct to disc masters, and Mobile Fidelity had their half-speed remasters. Then came the digital age, and audiophile companies had to come up with other ploys to justify their existence. One tactic that Sheffield, Mo-Fi, and other companies employed was using the gold disc. The companies claimed that gold was better than silver for producing more precise, uniform pits for a CD laser to read, thus generating a more precise audio image. I almost always found that the gold products I reviewed did, indeed, sound better than their silver counterparts, usually appearing smoother and better detailed. Still, I always concluded my reviews of gold discs with the caution that I could never actually tell if the audio upgrade was the result of the disc’s gold plating or the result of better, more-careful remastering. So, now, with this Massenet disc, I had the chance to compare a well-made gold disc with a JVC XRCD24 remastering on silver, both made from the same master tapes.

My conclusions on the audio issue come at the end of the review, but first I’ll add a little something about the disc’s contents. The original EMI LP of Massenet’s Le Cid ballet music found its way to my attention quite by accident a couple of years after EMI made it back in 1971. You see, in the mid Seventies I was compiling a list of favorite audiophile records for a magazine article, and I had asked every music and audio lover I knew for their recommendations. Everybody contributed, from high-end audio dealers, audio engineers, and record and equipment reviewers to various friends professing “golden ears,” about thirty people in all. As you may have already guessed, this recording of Le Cid figured high in the final tally. It not only contained a great performance of the music, it sounded state-of-the-art.

As luck would have it, though, by the time I tried to buy the recording, EMI had already withdrawn their Studio Two vinyl disc that everybody loved so well and replaced it with a lower-priced issue in their Greensleeves line. Fortunately, it was still plenty good, with a tremendous dynamic range and a whopping big bass. The next time it showed up on LP in America was on the Klavier label. Then came the CD age, and it appeared both in EMI’s mid-priced Studio line and on a Klavier silver disc. The EMI release retained the vinyl’s warmth, but the slightly leaner-sounding Klavier disc seemed a bit more transparent. Then Klavier issued the recording on a 24-karat gold-plated disc that I eagerly sought out and still own. Unfortunately, Klavier didn’t keep it around for long, and today it’s rather hard to find and costly if you do find it. Ditto for their later XRCD24 silver disc.

The music on the album comprises bits and pieces of the orchestral score in Massenet’s opera, namely the second-act ballet, and conductor Fremaux and his Birmingham orchestra provide a vigorous, zesty rendition of the Spanish-flavored tunes. The story of the opera, of course, is based on Spain’s legendary hero, Rodrigo de Bivar, or “El Cid” (from the Arabic “Al Sid” or “Lord”) who in the eleventh century reclaimed the city of Valencia from the Moors and became the hero of one of Spain’s most significant medieval epic poems. Massenet’s music, which premiered in 1885, is tuneful, exciting, and highly Romantic by turns, and Maestro Fremaux provides it with exactly the zesty and exciting performance it needs. The disc’s accompanying music by Berlioz and Offenbach is equally well presented.

Producers David Mottley and Brian Culverhouse and engineers Stuart Eltham and Neville Boyling recorded the music for EMI Studio Two (the Le Cid music in 1971, as I said), and EMI originally released the vinyl LP in both two-channel stereo and four-channel Quadraphonic. Not long after, Klavier released the recording on LP and then later on silver disc. In 1994 engineer Bruce Leek remastered the original tapes for a Klavier gold disc, and some years after that JVC (Victor Company of Japan) remastered it once more, again for Klavier, this time using their meticulous XRCD24/K2 mastering and manufacturing processes, using JVC’s original analog mastering console, 24-bit K2 A/D converter, digital K2 interface, K2 rubidium master clock, and K2 laser cutter.

So, getting back to that question we started with: Which sounds better, the gold disc or the XRCD24 silver disc? Now, here’s the thing: I love the gold disc. It retained all the warmth of the LP that I remembered and with greater impact and definition than the ordinary compact disc. Consequently, I was eager to compare the gold disc to JVC’s XRCD24 silver transfer. Putting them into separate CD players and adjusting for a slight volume imbalance (the JVC plays about two decibels louder), I started switching back and forth. My findings were rather what I had expected. JVC’s silver disc was slightly more dynamic and exhibited slightly more transparency. By comparison, the gold disc sounded marginally smoother but softer. This is not, however, to say that the JVC transfer was brighter or edgier than the gold. Indeed, without the direct comparison, one would not even have considered such a thing. What was clear to me more than anything, though, was that the XRCD24/K2 silver disc seemed to have greater impact than the gold disc, something the original LP had in abundance.

Which still leaves me wondering whether it is gold plating that makes a difference in better sound or simply better remastering techniques. After this experience, though, I’m leaning more than ever on the idea of better mastering.

And what would the difference be between this XRCD24 on silver and the same XRCD24 on gold? I suspect no difference at all, but I doubt that we’ll ever find out.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake, highlights (24K Gold CD review)

Anatole Fistoulari, Concertgebouw Orchestra of Amsterdam. HDTT remastered.



Who says audiophile CD's are dead? Mobile Fidelity, Sheffield Labs, and JVC may not produce many, or any, classical discs anymore; and FIM, Hi-Q, and Classical Compact Discs have apparently gone away forever. But we still have HDTT (High Definition Tape Transfers) going as strong as ever and offering their products in more formats than you can shake a stick at, if that's your idea of a good time. With this release it's Maestro Anatole Fistoulari and the Concertgebouw Orchestra's celebrated 1961 Decca highlights recording of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, remastered by HDTT.



I have a special affection for Fistoulari's Swan Lake because it was the first recording of Tchaikovsky's ballet I ever owned. Notwithstanding the fact that it was only a highlights collection and not the complete score--it would be several more years before I began buying complete sets of the work--I never did find one I liked better than Fistoulari's.



When CD's entered the scene in the early 1980's, I figured Decca would surely remaster it for the new medium, the recording being a classic and all. But it never happened. I sold the vinyl and waited in vain for the next twenty years for a CD. Then, in 2007 I found that Decca's Australia branch had finally issued it on their Eloquence label, so I snatched it up. It was OK, but it didn't sound quite as good as I had remembered from the old LP days. So, yeah, when I saw that HDTT had remastered it, I was more than happy.

Anatole Fistoulari

Now, to the work itself: According to most musicologists, in 1875 Petrovich Begiche, director of the Moscow Imperial Theaters, commissioned the Russian composer Peter Tchaikovsky (1840-93) to write the music for the ballet we now know as Swan Lake. He premiered it in 1877, and it was to become the first of the composer's big three ballets, with The Nutcracker and The Sleeping Beauty following some years later. Today, we take Swan Lake for granted as one of the greatest of all ballets, possibly THE greatest, but initially it flopped. The dancers complained they couldn't dance to the music, the conductor couldn't handle the tunes, and critics mostly panned it. It would not be until 1895, a few years after the composer's death, that the ballet's popularity would begin to soar in a revival.



The story of Swan Lake supposedly began as a little number called The Lake of the Swans that Tchaikovsky wrote for his family in 1871. Then, when he received Begiche's commission, Tchaikovsky added a few Russian and German folk tales, with the general plot based on a story by the German author Johann Karl August Musäus. One prominent point about Tchaikovsky writing the piece is that critics today consider it the first ballet composed by a writer who had previously worked almost exclusively in the symphonic field. Thus, if Swan Lake sounds more "symphonic" in structure, composition, and themes than earlier ballets, there is a reason.



Swan Lake tells a story in four acts of a young man, Prince Siegfried, whose mother insists that it's time he finds a bride and marry. No sooner said than he chances upon a beautiful young woman, Odette, with whom he falls in love. However, as fate would have it, an evil magician has put her and her attendants under a spell whereby they may only be human at night but turn into swans by day. Naturally, it is only a true and unfailing love that can save her.



The thing you have to accept about Fistoulari's conducting of the score, however, is that he approaches it from more of a symphonic standpoint than a balletic one, which is in keeping with what I mentioned earlier. You'll find broad symphonic lines here, an emphasis on dramatic Romantic effects, and some instrumentation Tchaikovsky didn't write but would probably have approved. In any case, it's the results that count, and you won't find a more exciting, more vigorous, more passionate, or more lovely account of the ballet than Fistoulari's.



Producer Ray Minshull and engineer Kenneth Wilkinson recorded the music for Decca at the Concertgebouw, Amsterdam in February 1961. HDTT transferred the recording from a 15ips tape to DSD256, and from there onto the format reviewed here, a 24K gold compact disc.



Naturally, I used the Decca Eloquence CD as a basis for comparison, and it didn't fare as well as the HDTT product. The new HDTT disc outperformed it by a small margin on almost every level. It sounds smoother, rounder, fuller, more dynamic, and better detailed. The Eloquence disc sounds slightly brighter and harsher by comparison, and with less impact. The fact is, this Decca recording always displayed the Concertgebouw at its best. The hall gives the orchestra a healthy but not overly prominent bloom, and while later Philips recordings may have gotten a bit more depth from the ensemble, the Decca engineers managed a pretty good sense of perspective and place, even with their usual multi-miking. Now, the folks at HDTT have made a good recording sound better than ever. And, yes, the HDTT comes closer to what I remember from long ago than the Eloquence disc ever did.



For more information on the various formats, configurations, and prices of HDTT products, you can visit their Web site at http://www.highdeftapetransfers.com/.



JJP



To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

The Chieftains: The Long Black Veil (Ultradisc review)

The Chieftains and various guests. Mobile Fidelity Ultradisc II UDCD 762.



It was good to have audiophile companies like Mobile Fidelity around, especially when they were doing their gold-disc thing, along with SACDs and now super-vinyl LPs. Mo-Fi's Ultradisc II gold remastering of the Chieftain's 1995 folk album "The Long Black Veil" was a welcome pleasure when they issued it back in 2004.



First, though, let me repeat a few remarks I made about RCA's original release of the album: Namely, I asked what Sting, Sinead O'Connor, Van Morrison, Mark Knopfler, Ry Cooder, Marianne Faithfull, Tom Jones, Mick Jagger, and the Rolling Stones had in common. Well, they were all featured vocalists on this Chieftains disc.



The Chieftains are, of course, the award-winning Irish folk group that play on traditional instruments like the bodhran, uilleann pipes, and tiompan, and come as close to the roots of Irish music as any group alive. Here, they back up some respectable talent in tunes from both sides of the Atlantic.



The most moving are the ballads "Coast of Malabar" with Ry Cooder and "The Foggy Dew" with Sinead O'Connor. The most startling is the title song with Mick Jagger; and, yes, he does still have a singing voice. The most beautifully sung are, again, the two pieces by Sinead O'Connor. The most successful is "Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?" with Van Morrison, a tune that reached number 71 on the UK singles chart. The best sounding items (there were half a dozen recording locations used) are the ones by Ry Cooder, who has a golden touch with everything he records. The most interesting vocalist is Marianne Faithfull, whose voice had gained a pleasantly distinctive character over the years. The most bizarre but unforgettable track is the one by Tom Jones, a belter, singing the "Tennessee Waltz." (Jones at the time was looking more and more like ex-heavyweight boxing champ Max Baer, a belter himself, so maybe the comparison is apt.) Whatever, any album that has Sting singing in Gaelic and the Chieftains jamming with the Rolling Stones can't be all bad. I've played it again and again over the years, a sure sign of something good.



Here's a track listing for those of you who don't already have the album:

  1. Mo Ghile Mear ("Our Hero") - The Chieftains with Sting

  2. The Long Black Veil - The Chieftains with Mick Jagger

  3. The Foggy Dew - The Chieftains with Sinead O'Connor

  4. Have I Told You Lately That I Love You? - The Chieftains with Van Morrision

  5. Changing Your Demeanour - The Chieftains

  6. The Lily of the West - The Chieftains with Mark Knopfler

  7. Coast of Malabar - The Chieftains with Ry Cooder

  8. Dunmore Lassies - The Chieftains with Ry Cooder

  9. Love Is Teasin' - The Chieftains with Marianne Faithfull

10. He Moved Through the Fair - The Chieftains with Sinead O'Connor

11. Ferny Hill - The Chieftains

12. Tennessee Waltz/Tennessee Mazurka - The Chieftains with Tom Jones

13. The Rocky Road to Dublin - The Chieftains with The Rolling Stones

The Chieftains

Now, is it worth paying out the extra money for Mobile Fidelity's gold treatment? Well, is anything worth the money if it's only a little bit better? Things audiophile, be they software or hardware, are a matter of very personal taste, and the fact is, most people can't tell the difference, anyway. So, probably 99% of all the people in the world with stereo systems wouldn't notice anything better or worse about this Mo-Fi remastering any more than they would notice a difference in a JVC XRCD or FIM UHD remastering. Mo-Fi gold discs, like anything audiophile, are for a very discerning (and, one hopes, well-heeled) listener with a reasonably high-quality audio system to appreciate,



Yes, as with every Mo-Fi disc I have listened to in the past forty-odd years (half-speed remastered LP to gold-plated CD's), I did hear a difference for the better (particularly with this gold remaster). Is it the gold that makes the improvement, as all the gold remastering companies have always claimed? I've never been convinced, wondering if a carefully well-engineered remastering itself has probably more to do with the improvements. After all, the folks at JVC XRCD don't use gold plating, and their results are equally impressive.



Be that as it may, this gold remastering does sound better in a side-by-side comparison than the original RCA issue. Using two CD players and switching the discs every song from one player to the other, I kept going back and forth between recordings making instant comparisons. Results: The gold disc was tighter, better focused in every song; the gold disc had a firmer bass line; the gold disc was cleaner; and the gold disc was smoother overall. The differences were most noticeable in the opening track, where in the RCA disc Sting and his accompaniment sounded almost out-of-phase by comparison. Also, in O'Connor's singing where high notes are prevalent, I could hear the difference in clarity and smoothness.



Is the extra money worth the incrementally small improvements? Not my job to say; only to report. But I liked what I heard.



JJP



To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Brubeck: Time Out (UltraHD review)

Dave Brubeck Quartet. Sony Music 88843026022 (remastered).



Alto saxophonist and composer Paul Desmond once said of "Take Five," "It was never supposed to be a hit. It was supposed to be a Joe Morello drum solo." Desmond's composition became the biggest-selling jazz single in history.



Jazz pianist Dave Brubeck (1920-2012) formed his quartet in 1951, and they continued playing until his death. Their biggest album, of course, was "Time Out," recorded in 1959 and included "Take Five." The album and the single have become jazz classics, so it was good that the late record producer Winston Ma (FIM, First Impression Music) helped in the album's audiophile remastering in 2014. It is currently available in its remastered form from Sony Music.



Although members of the quartet changed over the years, the personnel for "Time Out" consisted of Dave Brubeck, piano; Paul Desmond, alto sax; Eugene Wright, bass; and Joe Morello, drums.



The album featured several innovative moves for a jazz presentation, chief among them (and here I'm quoting) "exotic time signatures," "compound time," "layering rhythms of counterpoint," and a "blending of three cultures: the formation of classical Western music, the freedom of jazz improvisation, and the often complex pulse of African folk music."



Which brings us to the first track on the program, "Blue Rondo a la Turk," essentially a blues number in classical rondo form, with a nod to Mozert's rondo "Alla turca." Its strong pulsating rhythms provide a good show opener. After that is "Strange Meadow Lark," which seems rather common by comparison to the opening piece but is still quite lovely. Third up is "Take Five," the only work on the album that wasn't written by Brubeck but by Paul Desmond, and the only track that hardly needs any explanation, since it's been a staple of jazz ever since.

Dave Brubeck

Next is "Three to Get Ready," which starts as a kind of waltz and soon segues into a set of variations. Then, there's "Kathy's Waltz," a tune Brubeck wrote for his daughter, Cathy, which merges several waltz times; "Everybody's Jumpin'" is quite pliant in its rhythms; and the closing track, "Pick Up Sticks," superbly highlights Brubeck's piano work.



Originally recorded by producer Teo Macero and engineer Fred Plaut for Columbia Records in June 1959 at 30th Street Columbia Studio, the album was here remastered by producer Winston Ma in 2014 for Sony Music using FIM and JVC's UltraHD (Ultra High Definition), "PureFlection" (Pure Reflection), 32-bit mastering process. The results are about as good as current compact disc technology gets, considering one can play it on a regular CD player.



Now, here's the thing. I've owned this album in one format or another for most of most of my life yet never considered a particularly great audiophile recording. Most of the sound is miked in the left and right channels, and if the sweet spot in your listening configuration is on one point of the proverbial triangle, you're apt to get a hole in the middle, a slightly empty space between the speakers. Toeing the speakers in more toward the listening position and moving them a little closer together helps mitigate this issue quite bit, so experimentation is in order. Indeed, the disc might prove a blessing in disguise if it helps to improve one's seating arrangement.



Anyway, that said, the new remastering is superb, its main claim to fame being its absolute smoothness. Sony's previous releases of this recording have always seemed to me a bit hard; not really edgy but not as flowing as real music should be. The new remastering takes care of that, providing sound that is as natural as possible. It also improves, though only slightly, the recording's dynamic impact and bass response, as well as its overall clarity. Most important, the new remastering sounds lifelike, as if four musicians are there in the listening room with you.



Again, these are incrementally small distinctions and should not be construed as night-and-day differences. For most folks, the regular CD may suffice nicely. It's for the audiophile with deep pockets that record companies make these kinds of meticulous remasterings, and for them it should be a pleasure.



You can find ARC products at some of the best prices at Elusive Disc: http://www.elusivedisc.com/



JJP



To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Masterpiece II (XRCD24 review)

Touching folklore music. Mario Suzuki, guitar; Masao Okada, guitar; Miyuki Fujimoto, guitar; Susumu Nishizaki, piano. Master Music XRCD24-NT021.



First of all, I'm not sure why this 2017 album bears the title "Masterpiece II," unless it's because it follows an album guitarist Mario Suzuki made ten years earlier called "Masterpiece I." Certainly, there are no actual "masterpieces" or classics on the program unless the producers are engaging in a bit of hyperbole. Second, I'm not sure why the album bears the subtitle "Touching folklore music," since it appears Mr. Suzuki wrote all of the selections himself, thus negating the notion of folklore referring to traditional songs or stories handed down by people from generation to generation. I'm going to assume here that Mr. Suzuki is a folklorist the way Bob Dylan is a folk singer. None of which makes any difference in the least because this is a terrifically well recorded album of pleasantly performed guitar music that is sure to impress (and soothe) almost anyone.



Admittedly, I was not familiar with Mr. Suzuki before this album, so I looked up some information about him. According to Elusive Disc, "Mario Suzuki is a writer, composer and excellent guitar player! Suzuki is an extraordinary individual who you may not have heard of... but once you hear him play, he is hard to forget. Folklore guitarra is the traditional Spanish folk guitar music popular in the Spanish speaking countries in South America. It also includes contemporary guitar music which carries on much of the tradition of the folklore guitar music. It is of a completely different type either from American style modern folk music or pop folklore band music.



"Born in Tokyo, Japan in 1947 Mario Suzuki is a native of Japan. He has learned music composition and folklore guitar playing from Mr. Atsumasa Nakabayashi. He also learned folklore playing from both Jesusbenites (president of Mexican folklore guitarra association) and master folklore guitarist Eduardo Falu in Argentine. Mario has composed amazingly more than 500 pieces of folklore music."



On the present album, Mr. Suzuki plays either alone or with accompanists Masao Okada, guitar; Miyuki Fujimoto, guitar; and Susumu Nishizaki, piano. Here's a rundown of their program:



1. Journey

2. Whispering

3. Poem

4. In Breezing

5. Thinking of You

6. Cinema (New Snow Village) Theme

7. Memory Of Arashiyama

8. At Hotel La Mirador

9. Elapsed Waltz

10. Feelings

11. In Granada

12. Night Goes On

13. Remembering of You

14. Reminiscence

15. Monologue

16. Voice of Wave

Mario Suzuki

Because the booklet notes are mostly in Japanese and what aren't in Japanese are poorly translated into English, it was a little hard to get the full story on these melodies. Nevertheless, the music speaks for itself. It's quiet music, serene, tranquil, romantic, and appropriately sentimental. What's more, Suzuki plays with delicacy and finesse. The performances from all of the artists involved are fluid and graceful, caressing the music with subtlety and charm. One could hardly ask more from the performers.



While I'm still not persuaded that these tunes are quite "masterpieces," I cannot deny their peaceful beauty. Nor can I deny the audiophile quality of JVC's remastering for Master Music. I just wish the total time for the album, forty-three minutes, had been a little longer.



Producers Kazuo Kiuchi and Shizuo Nomiyama and engineer Yoshihiko Kannari recorded the music at Onkio Haus Studio (aka Onkyo House), Tokyo in November 2017. Tohru Kotetsu mastered the compact disc at JVC Mastering Center, Japan in January 2018 using XRCD24/K2 technology. A further note adds that "This album was directly recorded in half inch analog tape, 15ips. Mastered utilizing JVC 24bit AD converter with Digital K2, Rubidium clock."



That seems impressive, but does the album actually sound as good as what's written about the processing? Well, it sounds pretty good, that's for sure. Indeed, it's one of the finest-sounding guitar albums I've ever heard. The instruments have a warm, smooth, natural appearance, much like hearing them live in the room with you. Recorded on analog tape (and remastered digitally), the sound betrays no digital edge. The miking is somewhat close in order to capture a full fidelity dynamic range and transient impact, yet it's not objectionably close. The duets and trios are especially well spaced across the sound stage, and the room reflections are well judged. This is an audiophile disc, to be sure, and as such it probably sounds better in accordance with the quality of one's playback equipment.



You can find Master Music products at some of the best prices at Elusive Disc: http://www.elusivedisc.com/



JJP



To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Ecosse Maestro MA2 Interconnect Cables (Cable review)

Ecosse Reference Cables. The Stables@The Countryhouse, Kilmarnock, Scotland KA3 6EX (http://www.ecossecables.co.uk/)



By John J. Puccio



What? I hear you say: Why is Puccio reviewing a piece of hardware? And a controversial part of the hardware chain at that, a pair of interconnect cables. I thought he was a music-only man. Reasonable enough. But it is the hardware that allows us to hear the recording, so the equipment seems fair game. Besides, I decided it was time for a change, and what better a change than a pair of audio interconnect cables.



Again, I hear you asking: Why audio cables? I mean, everybody already knows that cables either (1) make all the difference in the world in the sound of a hi-fi system or (2) make no difference whatsoever. No, there aren't many people in the hi-fi or audiophile world who hold a neutral position on the topic. You're either in the cable camp or you're not; you either believe or you don't.



Let me tell you a brief story that may explain where I stand on the subject. A long time ago, maybe thirty years or more, an audiophile friend of mine decided to do a cable shoot-out at his house. He invited about a dozen of his audiophile buddies and me (I was never an audiophile; I couldn't afford it) to bring their favorite audio cables to a comparison test using his Sound Lab electrostatic speakers. He asked me to bring the cheapest pair of cables I could find so we'd have a solid contrast. I went to the nearest Radio Shack and bought a pair of their least expensive models, while the other guests brought some quite fancy (and quite expensive) stuff, including several people who owned their own cable companies, making and selling their own exotic products.



We spent the evening doing blind tests, writing notes, and not discussing anything until we had heard all the cables. Then we each rank ordered our picks, and my friend added up the scores. Remarkably, all of us at the event picked the same three cables as best; not in the same order, mind you, but the top three cables appeared on all of our lists as numbers one, two, or three. Just as remarkably, three more, different cables appeared at the bottom of everyone's list, one of the bottom three being the Radio Shack pair I had brought. It was also interesting that among the top three cables was a pair that a man had built himself by picking out a Belden cable on specs alone from a catalogue of about a million Belden cables. He fastened on two pair of gold ends that must have cost him ten times the price of the cable, and the result sounded so good that afterwards I made up a pair for myself and used them for years. (Later, moving my equipment to another cabinet necessitated longer cables, and by then I couldn't remember the Belden cable number or the name of the guy who built them, so I went with a good, popular cable brand of the day.)



Whatever, here's the thing: Some years after that, I wrote up the story of the shoot-out for a magazine I worked for at the time, telling the story pretty much as I explained it above. In the next issue, a colleague took me to task. The fellow writer said, basically, that all of us at the shoot-out were wrong, that we must have all been hallucinating, that there were absolutely no differences in the sound of one cable and another, that a cable was a cable, and that we were all hearing things. Yes, people get awfully worked up about interconnect cables, taking sides as though hi-fi were politics or religion. Or something really important like Star Wars movies.



Still, I heard what I heard that night, and so did twelve or so other people. As a result, I have tried to keep an open mind about the subject ever since. And, thus, we come to the present comparison, started more out of curiosity than anything else.



I decided after all these years to try out new connecting cables between my main CD player and my preamp. I wasn't about to attempt a full-blown cable shoot-out (which I would never have been able to do anyway, the logistics being darned near impossible). I just wanted to see if a modern interconnect of good repute would sound better than the good (and best-selling brand) I had used for years. I also realized there were hundreds of companies making "audiophile" cables, with each company making a host of different models. No shoot-out could possibly be comprehensive. So, I started by researching what other people knowledgeable on the subject had said, and found the Ecosse company of Scotland showing up strongly in various on-line comparison tests, as well as winning some major hi-fi awards. Since I had never heard of Ecosse before, I figured I would have no preconceptions about them. I contacted Elliot Davis, founder of Ecosse Cables, and he graciously agreed to send out a pair of his Maestro MA2's for listening.



Next, how to test them. The longer and best way to test any piece of new hardware is to install in your system and live with it for a week or two. Then take it back out and listen to your old component again. The quicker way, however, is to arrange an A-B test against your old equipment for instant comparison. I decided to do both.



Fortuitously, my main CD player, a Sony XA20ES, has two identical outputs. By connecting them to two different inputs on my preamp, I was able to use the preamp as a switch box for easy comparisons. Of course, I first had to make certain that both CD outputs were, indeed, identical. So, before connecting the Ecosse cables, I connected the second CD output to the preamp with a cable (that I had stored in the garage) exactly the same as the old one. Then I put on several recordings (including one of pink noise) and alternated between the two identical older cables, using a sound meter to be sure they were outputting the same volume and listening to be sure they sounded alike. Having satisfied myself that the two CD outputs were the same, I connected the new Ecosse cables next to my old ones and started the comparison. After an evening of A-B comparing using a variety of discs (and utilizing the talents of a very patient and understanding wife clicking back and forth at the preamp), I prepared for the long haul of listening to the Ecosse product by itself for a week or more.

Elliot Davis

Some of the discs I used during the testing included the classical: Debussy: Orchestral Music (Haitink, Concertgebouw Orchestra. Philips); Handel: Messiah (Ohrwall, Members of the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra. FIM/Proprius); Haydn: Baryton Divertimenti (The Esterhazy Machine. Smithsonian. FoM); Holst: The Planets (Previn, London Symphony Orchestra. Hi-Q Records/EMI); Mozart: Three Divertimenti for Strings (Marriner, Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields. FIM/Philips); Mozart: Violin Concertos Nos. 1, 2 & 4 (Mutter, LPO. JVC XRCD/DG); Rachmaninov: Symphonic Dances (Oue, Minnesota Orchestra. Reference Recordings); and Stravinsky: L'Histoire du Soldat (Ars Nova. HDTT/Westminster). Plus, an assortment of pop discs: Basie Jam (Analogue Productions gold/Pablo); Creedence Clearwater Chronicle (Fantasy gold); Jazz (Ry Cooder. Warner Bros.); Jazz at the Pawnshop (Arne Domnerus. FIM/Proprius); River Road (Eric Bibb and Bert Deivert, Opus 3); Slowhand (Eric Clapton. Mobile Fidelity gold/Polydor); Tango Tango (Viveza. Master Music XRCD); and Touch (John Klemmer. Mobile Fidelity gold/ABC/MCA).



Finally, to the point, how did the Ecosse cables sound compared to my old (and very popular) cables? In a word, better.



But I know what you want me to say, what you probably expect me to say: that it was an open-and-shut case, a matter of night and day. It wasn't. It was more like a matter of twilight and day. The differences were there for one to hear, but they were often subtle. Remember, I was comparing the Ecosse cables to a pair of very good cables; I wouldn't have lived with the old ones for as long as I did if they weren't pretty good.



With the Ecosse cables the width of the sound stage seemed about the same, yet there was a slightly greater sense of air around the instruments that made the recording hall or studio ambience all the more pronounced. Highs appeared a bit more extended with the Ecosse product, too, clearer and cleaner, with better sheen. Bass seemed almost the same, if a degree tauter, better defined, with the Ecosse product.



Midrange transparency was where I found differences most noticeable. Voices, for instance, sounded a degree better focused with the Ecosse cables, and all-around transparency was a tad more pleasing. The effect in listening to the old cables was something akin to putting one's hands lightly over one's ears. The differences were not dramatic, but they were discernible under almost all conditions and with almost every disc I put on. The battle for overall detail and clarity kept favoring the Ecosse product, my old cables sounding somewhat duller and more veiled by comparison. Differences in transient response and impact were harder to detect, though. Here, the slender variations I heard could have been the result of the Ecosse's better clarity. Who knows.



In all, the Ecosse Maestro MA2's seemed to do a better job than my old cables, producing a touch fuller, smoother, more lucid sound. Yet, as I say, it wasn't night-and-day for me, and without the benefit of the initial period of A-B testing, I'm not entirely sure I would have noticed the differences at all. Nor am I sure everyone would benefit from upgrading to Ecosse or any other new cables, depending on one's equipment, one's hearing, and one's interest in the whole subject.



Nevertheless, if you are still using the cheap cables that came with your system when you bought it, or if you're just of a mind to experiment, I doubt you could do any better than to try out one of Ecosse's full line of cables. Their prices start at the more-affordable level (under $100 a pair) and go up to over $2,000 a pair; you have a full slate to choose from. (The Maestros I sampled were a little over $200 a pair at the dealers I checked.)



Anyway, maybe Ecosse's Web site would provide better answers than I can give, and the site can also show you the differences among their various products: http://www.ecossecables.co.uk/



Happy listening.



JJP

Dvorak: Cello Concerto (XRCD review)

Also, Silent Woods. Jacqueline du Pre, cello; Daniel Barenboim, Chicago Symphony Orchestra. ARC ARCXRCD806.



When Jacqueline du Pre (1945-1987) made this recording in 1970 with her husband Daniel Barenboim and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, she was already one of the most-famous and most-accomplished cellists in the world. However, although Ms. du Pre's Dvorak performance is good, it probably isn't one of her signature recordings. Still, if you like the sound, which admittedly takes a little getting used to, the new remastering does more with it than ever before.



British cellist Jacqueline du Pre (1945-1987) began studying the cello at age five, winning the first of many awards at age eleven, followed by television and concert appearances. (Her formal debut was at Wigmore Hall, London in March 1961, when she was sixteen.) Then came the recording career, and the rest, as they say, is history. She met and married pianist and conductor Daniel Barenboim in the mid Sixties, and they appeared destined for mutual stardom, an ideal musical couple. The present recording is one of the fruits of that partnership. Unfortunately, her last public appearance would be in 1973 due to multiple sclerosis, her promising career ending shortly thereafter.



Czech composer Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904) wrote his Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104 rather late in life (1895), the work since becoming one of the most-popular cello concertos of all time. It's popularity has been so enduring that practically every major cellist in the world has recorded it, with the likes of Mstislav Rostropovich (DG), Yo-Yo Ma (Sony), Pierre Fournier (DG), Leonard Rose (Sony), Gregor Piatigorsky (RCA), Lynn Harrell (RCA), Pablo Casals (EMI and Dutton Labs), Paul Tortelier (EMI/Warner), Rafael Wallfisch (Chandos), Truls Mork (EMI/Warner), Maurice Gendron (Philips or HDTT), and Janos Starker (Mercury) heading up a lengthy list. Ms. du Pre's version, then, finds itself in heady company.



Because the concerto contains an abundance of attractive melodies, it gives the soloist and orchestra ample opportunity for displaying bravura, nuance, sensitivity, and a little sentimentality, all of which Ms. du Pre handles well, with her characteristic flair. Barenboim and the orchestra contribute to their parts with an equal zeal and enthusiasm.

The concerto begins with a long, imposing orchestral introduction before the cello enters, an intro that alludes to both of the work's two upcoming themes. Ms. du Pre plays it with the kind of spontaneous-appearing gusto we expect, yet it is not so brawny an interpretation as those of Gendron or Starker. It's a gentler kind of spirit that nonetheless captures the grand, robust vigor of Dvorak.

Jacqueline du Pre

After the strong start comes a slow, second-movement Adagio, which Dvorak wrote while his much-beloved sister-in-law lay dying, and he used one of her favorite pieces of music as a central theme. In it, he creates a lovely, explosively gentle, faintly melancholic mood, which should glide sweetly along like a slow-moving stream, wistfully, with a touch of sadness. Here, Ms. du Pre stands out from the crowd with a most-sensitive, sincere, evocative rendering.



In the Finale, we find more heroics and more pensiveness from both the soloist and the orchestra than we heard previously from them. Dvorak apparently wanted the soloist and orchestra to work on equal terms, and certainly du Pre, Barenboim, and the orchestra each contribute their fair share to the whole, producing a fittingly zesty yet reflective conclusion to the proceedings.



Accompanying the concerto is Dvorak's Silent Woods (1883), originally written for piano and later transcribed for cello and piano and then cello and orchestra. It's a beautifully sweet, lyrical piece, which I enjoyed immensely. Perhaps this is because the music so aptly suits the instrument, or perhaps it's because Ms. du Pre so appropriately expresses the meditative mood of the piece.



Producer Peter Andry and engineer Carson Taylor made the recording for EMI at the Medinah Temple, Chicago, Illinois in November 1970. Tohru Kotetsu remastered the recording for ARC at the JVC mastering Center, Japan, using the latest XRCD24/K2 processing for maximum fidelity CD playback.



A hallmark of the recording is its clarity. The orchestral sound is well detailed, but at the expense of some upper midrange hardness and brightness and some small lack of upper-bass warmth. (To be fair, this is a sound from the Chicago Symphony I've heard in other recordings, so it may be a condition of the orchestra and hall and not the recording.) Nevertheless, the new remastering sounds good and better than I have heard it. Then after that long introduction I mentioned earlier, the cello enters, and it's practically on top of us. The instrument sounds good, mind you--warm, mellow, and rich--just unnecessarily close and nothing like what one might hear in any real concert. What's more, the cello's entrance points up the wide dynamic range of the recording because it's quite a bit louder than the preceding orchestral preface.



Frankly, because I have never thought of the sound of this recording as audiophile material, I have to wonder why ARC/JVC chose to remaster it so meticulously. That said, for listeners who already enjoy the performance and want to hear it reproduced from the best possible source, the disc may be worth its asking price.



You can find ARC products at some of the best prices at Elusive Disc: http://www.elusivedisc.com/



JJP



To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Mendelssohn: Violin Concerto (XRCD review)

Also, Bruch: Violin Concerto No. 1. Itzhak Perlman, violin; Andre Previn, London Symphony Orchestra. ARC ARCXRCD805, remastered.



Because the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto is one of the most-popular violin concertos ever written, maybe the most popular, practically every major violinist in the world has recorded it. So, there is a huge selection of recordings of it in the catalogue, most of them pretty good. Still, I have always found Itzhak Perlman's 1972 recording with Andre Previn and the London Symphony Orchestra as good as any and better than most. Now, we find it in a modern audiophile remastering, making it better than ever. At least, for those with deep pockets.



German Romantic composer Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847) premiered his Violin Concerto in E minor, Op. 64 in 1845, and it would be his final large orchestral work. Audiences pretty much loved it at the time, and it has continued to be one of the staples of the violin repertoire ever since.



Because the Mendelssohn concerto is "nobly poised between romantic and classic" as W.A. Chislett writes in a booklet note, that's the way Perlman plays it, with an expressive romantic flair and a classic restraint and refinement. And unlike many competing versions on record, the soloist and the orchestra are on equal terms, neither actually dominating the other. Previn is a fine interpreter of Mendelssohn, anyway, and the LSO provide a warm, illuminating, and thoroughly captivating accompaniment for Perlman. Yes, you will find more vigorous accounts of the music, more vivacious ones, and more sweetly flowing ones, but you will be hard pressed to find one that sounds more totally attuned to the charms of Mendelssohn. It simply sounds "right," as fresh and scintillating as the day Perlman and his fellow players recorded it.

Itzhak Perlman

As a coupling, Perlman chose to do the Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor, Op. 26 by German composer and conductor Max Bruch (1838-1920). Bruch premiered a revised version in 1867, and it, too, like the Mendelssohn, has become a staple of the violin repertoire. Perlman and Previn play it in a traditional manner, with no exaggerated tempos, pauses, or contrasts. Perlman's playing is engaging, too, nuanced yet lively, giving the music all the enchantment and vivacity it needs. Moreover, the LSO were in peak form, providing Perlman a strong accompaniment.



The Bruch has a curious first movement, a Vorspiel (or Prelude) leading directly to the second movement. This Vorspiel is like a slow march, with some ornamental flourishes along the way. The second-movement is an Adagio, the heart of the work with its beautiful melodies, broadly sweeping themes, and graceful orchestral accompaniment. The piece ends with a Finale that begins quietly until the violin opens up with a vivacious theme in the form of a dance, which along with its lyricism reminds us of its Romantic origins, culminating in a grand climax. Anyway, as I say, Perlman, Previn, and the LSO do it up as well as anyone.



EMI producer Suvi Raj Grubb and engineer Robert Grooch recorded the concertos at Abbey Road Studio No. 1, London, in November 1972. Tohru Kotetsu remastered the original tapes at the JVC Mastering Center, Japan, for the Associated Recordings Company (ARC). The JVC team used meticulous XRCD24/K2 technology to assure the finest quality reproduction currently available for CD playback.



I had on hand for comparison another remastering of the same recording, this one also from Japan (Toshiba-EMI), though not in the XRCD format. The older Toshiba remaster seemed to me at the time marginally better, clearer and cleaner, than the regular EMI (currently Warner) product. Now, the JVC/ARC XRCD24 production is even clearer and cleaner than the older Japanese remastering, albeit at substantially higher cost. Is it for everyone? Of course not. It's for audiophiles who already love this particular recording and want the very best-sounding version of it. To that end, the JVC/ARC XRCD24 fills the bill.



Compared to the Toshiba-EMI product, the JVC/ARC disc sounds tighter, better defined, slightly more detailed, stronger, smoother, and fuller. Are the differences major? No, they're small but noticeable, at least in side-by-side comparison. Are they worth the extra money? That's up to the individual, not for me to decide. In any case, the sound in both versions revealed excellent balance, a superb reproduction of the soloist, well centered and not too far in front of the orchestra, with good response at both ends of the frequency spectrum. It's a fine recording made better by excellent processing.



You can find ARC products at some of the best prices at Elusive Disc: http://www.elusivedisc.com/



JJP



To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Belafonte at Carnegie Hall (UltraHD review)

Harry Belafonte. Sony Music 88843025992, remastered.



Many years ago, in the 1960's and 70's, I used to listen to a popular weekly FM radio show in the San Francisco Bay Area called "Excursions in Stereo." Similar to John Sunier's even later "Audiophile Edition," "Excursions" gave people a chance to hear some of the best stereo then available. Every week the show's host, Jim Gabbert, would play cuts from his favorite albums, and every week he would invariably include a track or two from the 1959 RCA recording of Harry Belafonte's concert at Carnegie Hall. Naturally, I had to buy the two-LP set for myself, and when I did, I was not disappointed, except that I had taken a while to discover it. It remains one of the best, most realistic reproductions of a live pop concert I've ever heard.



When the CD era arrived, RCA cut out a few tracks and fit the program onto a single compact disc. But it wasn't the excising of four or five songs that disappointed me so much as their almost complete destruction of the sound of the live event. Fortunately, that became a forgotten issue, at least for a little while, because in the mid 90's Classic Compact Discs remastered the entire program on two gold discs, restoring much of the original sound (as well as the omitted songs). Gone was the silver disc's harshness and one-dimensionality, replaced by the master tape's richer, cleaner tones and three-dimensionality. Although the sound seemed a little drier than I remembered it from the old LP days, it still conveyed a sense of presence unmatched by most recent digital efforts. This was a treasured LP set that I regretted coming to late in its history, but I was more than happy to have acquired the gold edition. Too bad Classic Compact Discs went out of business years ago, and the gold discs are no longer available (except used, I suppose).



Well, that was my history with the recording until the present. Now, I'm happy to say, there's another choice, and it's better than anything that's come before. The current incarnation of the Belafonte concert comes to us via UltraHD PureFlection, one of the last projects that FIM (First Impression Music) producer Winston Ma was involved with prior to his death. To manage such a great-sounding disc, Winston had Michael Bishop of Five/Four Productions do the 32-bit remastering and used UltraHD, an extra-precise manufacturing process, to complete the job.



The UltraHD disc contains the following songs on the program:

  1. Introduction/Darlin' Cora

  2. Sylvie

  3. Cotton Fields

  4. John Henry

  5. The Marching Saints

  6. Day O

  7. Jamaica Farewell

  8. Mama Look A Boo Boo

  9. Come Back Liza

  10. Man Smart

  11. Hava Nageela

  12. Danny Boy

  13. Cu Cu Ru Cu Cu Paloma

  14. Shenandoah

  15. Matilda

Harry Belafonte

One thing noticeable about Belafonte's performances in this concert is that he generally slows things down compared to his equivalent studio releases. You'll observe it in things like "Day-O" and "Jamaica Farewell," which seem more heartfelt taken at the slightly slower pace. Other than that, Belafonte is Belafonte, the man who practically invented calypso; or, at least, popularized it in America. Wonderful music in 1959; wonderful music today.



To evaluate the disc's sound quality, needless to say I put it up against the best version I already had in my collection, the aforementioned gold edition from Classic Compact Discs. Here, the comparison was fascinating. The gold remastering had sounded so much better than RCA's silver disc, I couldn't imagine anything surpassing it. But after adjusting for playback levels, the UltraHD disc did, indeed, eclipse it. Especially in clarity. I had never noticed the gold discs sounding so soft or warm before, but compared to the crystalline clarity of the UltraHD disc, the gold discs appear decidedly veiled, if only slightly. Of course, you may prefer a softer, warmer sound because you think it's easier on the ear. Fair enough; individual preference always takes precedence. But, really, the UltraHD is not only more transparent, it's just as easy on the ear as the gold, with no brightness, harshness, edginess, or glare. What's more, it appears to preserve even more of the original master tape's legendary presence, depth, dimensionality, and general feeling of aliveness than the gold discs. So, overall, the UltraHD is a superb product; no reservations whatsoever.



You can find this product at a number of on-line vendors, but you'll find some of the best prices at Elusive Disc: http://www.elusivedisc.com/



JJP



To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Fausto Mesolella: Live at Alcatraz (XRCD review)

Fausto Mesolella, guitar and loop pedal; Ferdinanda Ghidelli, pedal steel. Master Music/JVC XRCD24-NT017.



It's an expensive proposition; remasterings such as this one always are. I suspect that the current album might appeal to one or more of four kinds of people: (1) lovers of guitar music; (2) fans of guitarist Fausto Mesolella; (3) folks who simply enjoy pop/jazz musical arrangements; or (4) audiophiles bent on obtaining the best possible recordings for their collection.



In the case of Fausto Mesolella: Live at Alcatraz, I would further speculate that it's the fourth option that might attract the most attention, since there is already a plethora of guitar music and pop/jazz music at much more reasonable prices and since Mr. Mesolella isn't exactly a household name. But as a purely sonic treat, this JVC XRCD24 isn't bad.



Italian guitarist, composer, arranger, and producer Fausto Mesolella began playing professionally in 1969, winning awards, performing solo as well as with a number of bands, making recordings, and working in his own studio. Here, he plays guitar and loop pedal while accompanied on some of the tracks by Ferdinanda Ghidelli on pedal steel guitar.



Incidentally, the Alcatraz of the album's title does not refer to Alcatraz Island in the San Francisco Bay or the famous federal prison once located there. This Alcatraz is a school in Italy. Disappointing, I know.



On this live recording, Mesolella plays mostly a fusion of pop and jazz, as I noted above. Mesolella's style is tight yet flexible, providing solid realizations of many old favorite numbers. He never showboats but presents the music with faithfully, with feeling, and on occasion with much intensity. While he may not display quite the virtuosity we find in some celebrated classical guitarists, the music hardly demands it.



Here's a rundown on the program:

1. Mesolella: "Sonatina Improvvisata D'Inizio Estate"

2. Rota: "Ai Giochi Addio" (from Romeo and Juliet)

3. Capurro/di Capua: "O Sole Mio"

4. Piazzolla: "Libertango"

5. Lennon: "Imagine"

6. Bottrell/Jackson: "Black or White"

7. Newton: "Amazing Grace"

8. Mesolella: "La Principessa"

9. Arlen: "Somewhere Over the Rainbow"

Fausto Mesolella

If there is any downside to all of this, beyond the relatively high price of the remastered album, it's that there isn't a lot of it at only forty-four minutes. And, for me, there's the business of the live recording, which I don't care for but which I understand many other listeners do. Be that as it may, let me reflect on a few of my favorite selections.



The first track, the "Sonatina Improvvisata D'Inizio Estate," is a good example of what's to come. Mesolella's playing is fluid and light, the music wafting over one as airily as a spring breeze. If you're a fan of Franco Zefferilli's Romeo and Juliet, you'll probably enjoy Mesolella's performance of the love theme Nino Rota wrote for the film. It's lovely, breezy, lilting, and enchanting. Although "O Sole Mio" and Piazzolla's tango come off a bit too sentimentally for me, Mesolella's version of John Lennon's "Imagine" appears sweet and appealing without being too cloying. And so it goes. The pedal steel in "Amazing Grace" sounds wonderful in its rich resonance, and Mesolella's version of Harold Arlen's "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" may leave you in tears. A fine album; I just wish there were more of it.



A final note on the album's presentation: JVC have packaged the disc in a beautiful, glossy, hard Digipak-type case, with the disc fastened to the inside back and booklet notes bound to the inside. It's unfortunate, though, that whoever translated the notes from Italian into English did such a slapdash job of it. Most of it seems as though an automated translation program did the writing, which is sometimes downright hard to decipher.



Fausto Mesolella recorded the album live at the University of Alcatraz, Santa Cristina di Gubbio, Italy, in August 2013. Producers Kazuo Kiuchi and Shizuo Nomiyama and engineer Tohru Kotetsu at the JVC Mastering Center, Japan, remastered the original analogue tape in February 2016, using XRCD processing, JVC's K2-24bit AD converter, and a digital K2 rubidium clock.



OK, so the first thing we have to get out of the way is the whole subject of live recording. Yes, there is no doubt a certain spontaneity involved in performing in front of an audience, a greater feeling of informality, naturalness, and ease. And for some listeners there is the fun of almost being in the crowd listening to the performance. Nevertheless, it comes with its own burdens: There is always audience noise, and there is the inevitable applause, which erupts before and after every number. For me, it becomes tiresome. For other listeners, it probably adds to the charm of the experience.



Beyond the noise, the album sounds terrific. The guitar rings out loud and clear, its vibrations resonating throughout the room in with light, realistic, natural bloom. It is, in short, one of the best guitar recordings I've ever heard. Of course, to obtain such a healthy sound, the engineers have miked the instrument rather closely, so it probably isn't a good idea to play the music too loudly. At the right level, though, this can be some of the best audiophile material available.



You can find JVC products at any number of on-line marketplaces, but you'll find some of the best prices at Elusive Disc: http://www.elusivedisc.com/



JJP



To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click on the forward arrow: