| I
Believe
in Magic |
| Commentary |
| Anna
Logg |
| September
1999 |
In
reading the
accounts of
Clement Perry
and Mike
Silverton’s
reactions to
Ralph Glasgal’s
Ambiophonics
system, I went
back to read
my own article
to see if the
intervening
years might
have changed
my attitude
about it at
all. As I
recalled, my
evaluation had
been along
much the same
lines as
Clement’s.
More to the
point, I felt
after reading
it through
that nothing I
had heard in
the time since
made me feel I
should change
one word of
what I had
written.
Ralph
Glasgal's
Ambiophonics
system is
unorthodox,
both in its
logistics and
how it uses
technology. I
think that in
view of this,
one has to
leave
technical
knowledge and
conventional
expectations
at the
doorstep.
Since I have
little of the
former and
have always
been very
open-minded in
terms of the
latter (being
more of a
"listener
and
seeker")
my reaction
was not
tainted by
Technical
Audio Stuff I
Know or
objectivist
skepticism.
I
believe in
magic. I
believe in the
magic of
believing. I
do not disdain
any tweak
without trying
it, for I
fully embrace
the concept of
listening to
something
before forming
an opinion.
Then, if
sufficiently
astounded
and/or
delighted, I
might become
interested in
how . . . and
maybe why. But
I don't really
need to know;
it is
sufficient to
me to simply
hear the
result.
I
have been
invited to
revisit
Rockleigh to
hear the
current
iteration of
Ambiophonics,
now equipped
with, of all
things, an
analogue front
end featuring
the [in]
famous Elp
laser
turntable,
among other
improvements
since I last
heard the
system. This I’ve
gotta hear!
(The
following is
reprinted from
the August
1994 issue of
The Source,
the newsletter
of the New
Jersey Audio
Society)
The
Listening Room
As Component .
. . The next
audio
frontier?
At
the museum of
the La Brea
Tar Pits in
Los Angeles,
the fossilized
skeleton of a
saber tooth
tiger (which
was unearthed
at the site)
is
holographically
reconstructed
in all its
three-
dimensional,
corporeal
perfection! In
a powerful
display of
this
technology,
the lifelike
apparition is
intermittently
projected over
the skeleton
so that at one
moment you're
seeing a
magnificent,
softly-furred
beast with
glinting,
watchful eyes
and bristling
whiskers, and
the next —
it's back to
the reality of
lifeless
"bare
bones."
First,
Ralph
Glasgall's
"Domestic
Concert
Hall"
System....
Ralph
has created a
system to
retrieve
("project,"
if you will) a
sort of
"sonic"
holography.
Using only
standard,
readily-available
two-channel
recordings,
the DCH can
produce audio
imaging that
gives new
dimensions to
the concept of
"soundstage"
and, I'd go so
far as to say,
even
transcends it!
Everything
necessary to
the
three-dimensional
illusion is
there save for
the images of
the
performers!
It
is the
"you are
there"
concept that
makes Ralph
Glasgal's
approach
unique.
Conventional
audiophile
effort and
thinking (mine
included...)
has focused on
trying to
"recreate
them
here!" By
[re]creating
hall ambience,
my
"holograph"
analogy
perspective
changes from
"puts the
entire New
York
Philharmonic
right there in
my living
room" to
"Puts me
in Avery
Fisher Hall
..... without
leaving my
living
room!"
The
concept has
been dubbed
"Ambiophonics."
This term
refers to a
specific set
of audio
objectives
which Ralph
presents as
The Ambiophile
Creed. Its
first tenet:
"That the
majority of
home listeners
to large
ensemble
recordings
would prefer
to hear their
music
reproduced by
a system that
recreates as
closely as
possible the
acoustics of a
live concert
hall, opera
house, church,
etc."
Whether
it could be
feasible for
conventional
home
application is
hard to say
— this
system
represents a
large
financial
investment
which most of
us could
hardly afford.
Plus, it
requires
special room
deadening and
equipment
logistics.
However,
albeit on a
smaller scale,
some of the
room treatment
and hardware
configurations
can certainly
be implemented
in the average
listening
room. The DCH
does not
contain any
hard-to-get
experimental
technology —
it just uses a
myriad of
existing,
readily-available
technologies
in a new way.
All together,
they point in
a potentially
exciting
direction for
the future of
home audio.
If
nothing else,
just one brief
audition of
the DCH is
enough to
shake your
complacency
and rouse you
from the
dull-witted
torpor of the
"beaten
path."
The
demo consisted
of a selection
from an
obscure
Gershwin
musical. (CD
source.) I
think it is
important to
add here that
no other
information
was
volunteered,
nor was there
any attempt to
set a level of
expectation
for what you
were about to
hear. The
listener sits
in the center
of the 28 x 30
foot room,
twelve feet
back from the
major front
speakers (Duntechs.)
An 8"
thick by 8 ft.
high by 10 ft.
long panel
covered with
sound-absorptive
material is
situated
vertically in
the center of
the room
between the
listener and
the speakers.
(It resembles
a
free-standing
room divider.)
Its purpose,
says Ralph, is
to
"prevent
front speaker
(interaural)
crosstalk."
For optimum
effect, one
sits within
6" to
12" from
the edge of
the divider,
which is
notched to
allow foot and
knee room. The
remaining
speakers (a
pair of Carver
AL IIIs and
two pairs of
Acoustat 1+1s)
are arranged
down the sides
of the room,
fairly close
to the walls
and
alternately
angled
sideways
facing out
toward the
center of the
room. Of
course, each
speaker is
individually
amplified.
The
minute the
demo started,
I knew that it
was not
"pure"
acoustic sound
on the
recording.
What I heard
sounded like
an amplified
acoustic
musical event
exactly as it
might sound in
a theater.
As
it happened,
this was the
"sound"
and the hall
ambience that
Ralph was
testing. He
added that it
was fairly
easy to do
with this
particular
recording,
because it was
almost as if
the engineer
was
deliberately
trying to get
that kind of
"theater"
ambiance in
the recording.
However it was
achieved, I
had a definite
sense of
actually
hearing the
show's
"sound
reinforcement"
amplification
system.
The
overall effect
of the center
divider can be
described as
rather like
wearing giant
headphones,
but Ralph's
system can
recreate a
life-size
environment
with a
palpable sense
of its
physical
space,
intimate or
huge. In the
demo, the
performers
"materialized"
as life-sized,
with
instrumental/vocal
images that
seemed as real
and solid to
me as that
sabre tooth
tiger! The
singers had
flesh (and
bones) and
walked
(sometimes
stomped) on a
real stage
rather than
seeming to
float sort of
suspended in
mid-air.
To
that extent,
the components
in the system
must be
considered
suitably
transparent
and
"accurate."
Actually, I
had no
conscious
awareness of
the
"sound"
of the system,
per se, as
much as of the
recording
itself.
Acoustic
Accuracy
It
is the room's
acoustic
treatment that
is really at
the heart of
the system.
Ralph
maintains that
the original
(or simulated)
ambient sound
(s) cannot be
accurately
produced if
the room plays
any part in
modifying
those sounds.
To this end
the DCH
listening room
is not only
dedicated, but
is an
integrated
part of the
system. It
fulfills the
6th tenet of
the Ambiophile
Creed:
"That
diffusion in
the listening
room is the
enemy of
concert hall
realism and
absorption is
its
friend."
Starting
with
ankle-deep
carpeting on
the floor, all
reflective
surfaces have
been deadened
with
absorptive
material up to
a height of 12
feet on all
four walls of
the 35 foot
high room.
This creates
the
"holodeck,"
if you will,
for the
computer to
project an
approximation
of the
original (or,
desired)
acoustic
environment.
(Hey,
Trekkers!!)
Want a
Broadway
theater? ZAP.
Want to be in
Carnegie Hall?
Merely ZAP
again.
The
major
drawback, of
course, is
that there's
only one
optimal
listening
position. I
admit that
I've always
abhorred
speakers that
limit
listening to a
constricted,
dead-center
"sweet
spot,"
firmly
believing that
good or great
speakers
should sound
equally
panoramic from
any angle.
Of
course, that
attitude
relates to
conventional
system setup.
In the case of
the DCH,
however, the
limited
listening
position is
dictated by
the center
"crosstalk"
panel, and
there's no way
around that.
(Yet?) either
left or right
as well as
center. In
fact, in a
1986 article,
I even
ridiculed the
notion with a
cartoon titled
"The
Audiophile
Concert
Hall!"
But, even
though I
readily
acknowledge
that 99
44/100% of
[my] listening
is a solitary
pastime
anyway, there
is something
about the
DCH's overt,
active
commitment to
isolation that
can be a bit
of a turnoff.
It's
irrational, I
suppose, but
there was
something
vaguely
unsettling
about it..
On
the other
hand, the
wonders that
the DCH may be
capable of
make it worth
searching for
compromises.
For example,
perhaps the
room/system
could be
designed with
elements that
would permit
one to revert
back to
conventional
playback in
order to
satisfy the
extroverted
audiophile's
need to share
fine
recordings,
impress
friends,
(i.e., show
off) or, Hey,
— even
Party!
As
to other
reactions, I
found that
some people
seemed to
completely
misconstrue
the concept—
and the
potential —
of the Glasgal
Domestic
Concert Hall.
The demo
recording was,
arguably, not
the best
sounding
available, but
that wasn't
the point. The
system
astonished me
precisely
because it was
so accurate in
recreating the
very same
unnatural,
"wired"
sound you will
in fact hear
in the
theater. In
all other
respects, it
sounded
amazingly
"real"
to me, and
presented a
very
convincing
illusion.
The
meeting ran
quite late so
it was not
possible to
have any
encores that
evening. I can
only imagine
the
goose-bumps a
great analogue
opera or
symphony
recording
could raise.
(We will be
returning for
some extended
listening and
will report
further
impressions
after that. )

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