Post by ChrisB on Nov 20, 2015 15:32:20 GMT
Equalisers - evil or not?
I know Jerry and Andre approve of them, as do one or two other people I know who's systems I know and whose opinions I respect. Those people specialise in collecting old blues and jazz recordings so it's easy to understand the need there. I remember reading a long time ago about the Cello equalising units and thinking that if someone like Mark Levinson, with his experience as musician, recording engineer and audio equipment manufacturer can see something of worth in EQ at the playback stage, then it shouldn't be casually dismissed.
Since then, I've taken part in discussions about these things and the usual response from people in the hi-fi fraternity is extremely dismissive and, it strikes me, a little blinkered, an opinion formed without actual experience.
I would love to have a few days to play with one of the Cello units just to find out for myself. Trouble is, I can't even afford a pair of Cello interconnects, never mind an Audio Palette!
Anyway, as food for though, it's interesting to read these excerpts from an interview with ML for Stereophile in 1997.
The Gospel According to Mark Levinson
By Barry Willis • Posted: Sep 14, 2012 • Published: Nov 14, 1997
www.stereophile.com/content/gospel-according-mark-levinson#eEPqe0CLCkk6SXuH.97
Apart from the acoustic treatment, the place doesn't look much like a recording studio: no mixing boards, no glass-paneled booths, no racks of signal processors. The recording equipment—modified B&K measurement microphones, Cello Encore preamp, Apogee AD1000 analog-to-digital converter, two Nagra-D digital open-reel recorders, and two pairs of Stax Lambda Pro Signature headphones—fits easily on some modest wooden shelves. The top shelf holds a box of old Capitol master tapes, here for remastering. They're insured for a million bucks each.........
.....He joins us, speaking emphatically about his crusade to introduce the professional music community to "the Cello process: no EQ, no post-production, no editing. We want to empower musicians. They have gotten used to the idea that their performances are simply the raw material which engineers use to make the final product. Having ultra-accurate playback gear in such close proximity to a rehearsal space is a revolutionary concept."
In a sweeping statement that takes in the entirety of the commercial music world—musicians, recording engineers, and playback equipment designers included—he says, "Memory fades. How can you make a claim for playback accuracy if you don't have the actual musicians there for comparison? That's how we do it. Most people in this industry make claims for accuracy based on playing commercial recordings. It isn't honest."
Levinson builds a convincing case with a few well-chosen words. He points out that one of the most persistent problems in the audio industry is "the lack of a basic standard for tonal accuracy. Did you know there's a 15dB spread in tonal balance among high-end loudspeakers? We have a video standard for color balance. Why can't we have something like that in audio? That alone would go a long way toward resolving these disputes." Listening to Levinson and Lee Konitz improvise "something in B-flat," then immediately hearing the recording through an assortment of Cello gear, I couldn't help but agree that reality is the only valid check for accuracy......
......"Let's watch a video," Levinson says. We settle down in front of a big screen flanked by towering loudspeakers. On the floor are eight large silver boxes: Cello's Performance amplifiers. As configured here, they are capable of 6000 watts each into the 2 ohm, 99dB-sensitive Grandmasters. This system is a deadly weapon. Mismanaged, it could deafen a man in less than a minute.
Levinson cues up a laserdisc and zips to a nice "unplugged" performance of the Eagles' "Hotel California." The picture from the line-quadrupled Ampro projector is marvelous: rich, saturated colors, deep contrast, sharp detail, depth perspective. The sound, of course, is glorious. Courtney Winston, seen-it-all habitu;ae of Manhattan's art scene, is seriously impressed.
"Let's play some music," Levinson says. "No pictures. What did you bring?" Courtney produces a Capitol Jazz CD reissue of Miles Davis' Birth of the Cool. Kurt Lundvall retrieves their recently remastered 20-bit tape of the same recording and threads it onto a Nagra-D. Levinson starts the Nagra about 15 seconds after the CD, and switches between them as we listen. Audio technology was remarkably good 50 years ago, but the remastered 20-bit version has life.
Levinson rolls out a Palette preamplifier/equalizer on a one-piece Lucite stand. As we listen to the original "Moon Dreams," he switches the Palette's equalizer in. "Those cymbals—they're a little soft, don't you think?" Courtney nods. "Turn the 25k control until they feel a little more real." The cymbals take on increased presence. "The bass seems way off in the background, doesn't it?" Levinson says, indicating the left-most of the Palette's six tone controls. Guiding Courtney through re-equalizing the old recording by ear, he explains how this control affects that instrument, in the process bringing the musicians more into the room. The music becomes fuller, more present, more involving. Finished with the makeover, Levinson switches the equalizer out. The soundstage collapses into the sonic equivalent of a cardboard cut-out. It's a stunning effect, a magician's trick.
Mark Levinson doesn't believe in the inviolable preciousness of commercially recorded music. "It's absurd," he says, referring again to nonexistent playback standards. "How do we fix it? The Palette." He doesn't hesitate to criticize equipment or recordings made by others, or to apply liberal doses of the Palette's magic to make them sound better. In a violation of one of the basic tenets of the high-end religion, he encourages his customers to do so, too: just twist those dials until that less-than-perfect recording sounds more like music.
Read more at www.stereophile.com/content/gospel-according-mark-levinson#4rHsuj7gStSdwZA7.99That sounds to me like a good argument for sensitively applied EQ during the playback process, as long as the gear is of good enough quality to not get to much in the way.
I know Jerry and Andre approve of them, as do one or two other people I know who's systems I know and whose opinions I respect. Those people specialise in collecting old blues and jazz recordings so it's easy to understand the need there. I remember reading a long time ago about the Cello equalising units and thinking that if someone like Mark Levinson, with his experience as musician, recording engineer and audio equipment manufacturer can see something of worth in EQ at the playback stage, then it shouldn't be casually dismissed.
Since then, I've taken part in discussions about these things and the usual response from people in the hi-fi fraternity is extremely dismissive and, it strikes me, a little blinkered, an opinion formed without actual experience.
I would love to have a few days to play with one of the Cello units just to find out for myself. Trouble is, I can't even afford a pair of Cello interconnects, never mind an Audio Palette!
Anyway, as food for though, it's interesting to read these excerpts from an interview with ML for Stereophile in 1997.
The Gospel According to Mark Levinson
By Barry Willis • Posted: Sep 14, 2012 • Published: Nov 14, 1997
www.stereophile.com/content/gospel-according-mark-levinson#eEPqe0CLCkk6SXuH.97
Apart from the acoustic treatment, the place doesn't look much like a recording studio: no mixing boards, no glass-paneled booths, no racks of signal processors. The recording equipment—modified B&K measurement microphones, Cello Encore preamp, Apogee AD1000 analog-to-digital converter, two Nagra-D digital open-reel recorders, and two pairs of Stax Lambda Pro Signature headphones—fits easily on some modest wooden shelves. The top shelf holds a box of old Capitol master tapes, here for remastering. They're insured for a million bucks each.........
.....He joins us, speaking emphatically about his crusade to introduce the professional music community to "the Cello process: no EQ, no post-production, no editing. We want to empower musicians. They have gotten used to the idea that their performances are simply the raw material which engineers use to make the final product. Having ultra-accurate playback gear in such close proximity to a rehearsal space is a revolutionary concept."
In a sweeping statement that takes in the entirety of the commercial music world—musicians, recording engineers, and playback equipment designers included—he says, "Memory fades. How can you make a claim for playback accuracy if you don't have the actual musicians there for comparison? That's how we do it. Most people in this industry make claims for accuracy based on playing commercial recordings. It isn't honest."
Levinson builds a convincing case with a few well-chosen words. He points out that one of the most persistent problems in the audio industry is "the lack of a basic standard for tonal accuracy. Did you know there's a 15dB spread in tonal balance among high-end loudspeakers? We have a video standard for color balance. Why can't we have something like that in audio? That alone would go a long way toward resolving these disputes." Listening to Levinson and Lee Konitz improvise "something in B-flat," then immediately hearing the recording through an assortment of Cello gear, I couldn't help but agree that reality is the only valid check for accuracy......
......"Let's watch a video," Levinson says. We settle down in front of a big screen flanked by towering loudspeakers. On the floor are eight large silver boxes: Cello's Performance amplifiers. As configured here, they are capable of 6000 watts each into the 2 ohm, 99dB-sensitive Grandmasters. This system is a deadly weapon. Mismanaged, it could deafen a man in less than a minute.
Levinson cues up a laserdisc and zips to a nice "unplugged" performance of the Eagles' "Hotel California." The picture from the line-quadrupled Ampro projector is marvelous: rich, saturated colors, deep contrast, sharp detail, depth perspective. The sound, of course, is glorious. Courtney Winston, seen-it-all habitu;ae of Manhattan's art scene, is seriously impressed.
"Let's play some music," Levinson says. "No pictures. What did you bring?" Courtney produces a Capitol Jazz CD reissue of Miles Davis' Birth of the Cool. Kurt Lundvall retrieves their recently remastered 20-bit tape of the same recording and threads it onto a Nagra-D. Levinson starts the Nagra about 15 seconds after the CD, and switches between them as we listen. Audio technology was remarkably good 50 years ago, but the remastered 20-bit version has life.
Levinson rolls out a Palette preamplifier/equalizer on a one-piece Lucite stand. As we listen to the original "Moon Dreams," he switches the Palette's equalizer in. "Those cymbals—they're a little soft, don't you think?" Courtney nods. "Turn the 25k control until they feel a little more real." The cymbals take on increased presence. "The bass seems way off in the background, doesn't it?" Levinson says, indicating the left-most of the Palette's six tone controls. Guiding Courtney through re-equalizing the old recording by ear, he explains how this control affects that instrument, in the process bringing the musicians more into the room. The music becomes fuller, more present, more involving. Finished with the makeover, Levinson switches the equalizer out. The soundstage collapses into the sonic equivalent of a cardboard cut-out. It's a stunning effect, a magician's trick.
Mark Levinson doesn't believe in the inviolable preciousness of commercially recorded music. "It's absurd," he says, referring again to nonexistent playback standards. "How do we fix it? The Palette." He doesn't hesitate to criticize equipment or recordings made by others, or to apply liberal doses of the Palette's magic to make them sound better. In a violation of one of the basic tenets of the high-end religion, he encourages his customers to do so, too: just twist those dials until that less-than-perfect recording sounds more like music.
Read more at www.stereophile.com/content/gospel-according-mark-levinson#4rHsuj7gStSdwZA7.99
- use the Behringer to insert a narrow deep dip at 50Hz -- sorted!
