While I'm not sure my previous thread was completely exhausted, and though it may still hobble on for a bit, as it had grown somewhat philosophical, I thought I'd return to that, if not exactly more concrete, than all too familiar, though no less chimerical, subject of speaker break-in, to whit, the breaking in or progress of my very own still-almost-brand-new X5s. There are many things to be said about this, even in only the very short time mine have been going through the process, so many that I'm going to limit myself (for now) to one aspect (which actually encompasses several smaller aspects) via one passage of music. I warn you now that this passage of music is from an opera, an 18th Century one no less. So, if opera is the kind of thing that fills you with the thought of absurd men in powdered wigs, the insufferable springy twanging of harpsichords, and large women in horned helmets bellowing fortissimo through an incomprehensible night (though that iteration came somewhat later than this), I apologize.
Because people are interested in such things, and they (the things, not the people) deserve their share of credit and blame for whatever sound my system is capable of, for the record, my system: my X5s, now one day less than two weeks old (four days of which, sadly, I lost to a vacation in which I was unable to keep music elasticizing my drivers), with about 80 hours on them; a Classe CT-2300 amp; a Classe SSP-800 processor; a Manley Chinook phono stage; Pro-ject Xtension 12 tt; Bluesound Node streamer; a fairly old but surprisingly good Rotel RCD-1072 CD player; Cardas Audio Clear Sky speaker cables and various interconnects. My room is approximately 15'w x 30'd x 9'h, with zero treatment and myriad unfortunate nooks, doorways, angles, and hard surfaces. I mention the room in some detail because, despite its many shortcomings, the X5s still do yeoman's work at imaging and generally sounding, well, fabulous.
The musical passage in question is from Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro, or The Marriage of Figaro. People, when they find out I like opera or books, for some reason often often feel compelled to ask what is my favorite opera or book. I'm sure many of you have had the same experience. I'm sure the people asking it mean well, but you know, if you like such things, or almost anything, favorites, for the most part, are an ever-changing quantity, depending on such shifting sands as age, experience, intelligence, mood, time of day, and a whole host of other unreliable influences. That said, and strongly believed, I can nevertheless say without hesitation that, were I stranded on that oft-proposed desert island with only one opera to sustain me, that opera would be The Marriage of Figaro. The level of wit, pathos, seriousness, verisimilitude, buffoonery, truly accurate representation of human feeling in song, speech, and score, is, in my estimation, unsurpassed. Even if you know nothing of the story (and are susceptible to opera), the music alone is glorious, in the literal sense, and will convey all of these things. This is true (for me) listening to it on a clock radio. What is remarkable is how much more true it is listening to it on a high-level hifi. The particular recording, for those of you who might want to plop it on your turntable, in your cd player, or stream it through your what have you and follow along, is the 1981 Decca recording with Sir Georg Solti conducting the London Philharmonic, Kiri Te Kanawa as the Countess, Samual Ramey as Figaro, and Thomas Allen as, I think, the best Count on record.
The specific passage occurs early in Act II with the Count, suspicious and jealous, entering the Countess's room exclaiming "Che novità!" and ends with the Countess quite unjustly (though also, paradoxically, sincerely and quite deservedly) upbraiding the Count for his suspicions and behavior "Crudele! piu quella non sono!" Of course there is much preceding this and it goes on after for much longer, but this scene embodies more than enough of the virtues contained in the music and the X5s' production of it to serve my purposes.
Opera in general, and this scene in particular, provides a unique opportunity for assessing, almost literally, soundstage. The movement of the singers allows us to gauge the stage's ever-changing depth, breadth, and separation as they move up and down, on and off stage, the distance between them as they stand or move about and sing their parts, and, in ensemble work, the variation in volume of each singer depending on how near or far from the front of the stage they're standing. In the beginning of this scene, the Count knocks on the Countess's bedroom door while the Countess, Susanna (her maid), and Cherubino (a page infatuated with the Countess and with whom the Countess enjoys a flirtation) are amusing themselves by listening to Cherubino profess his love for the Countess in a song. The Count's knocking sends them all into a panicked dither, with the Countess stalling the Count and Susanna and Cherubino eventually hiding in the Countess's dressing cabinet (more of a large walk-in closet). The Count's impatient knocking and demands to be let in are heard clearly off-stage, far wide of the right speaker, while the women inside, between the speakers, are clearly running around in circles, singing in conspiratorial whispers, with each voice, two sopranos, one's voice slightly more mature than the other (the Countess), and a mezzo-soprano (Cherubino), though in a whirl of movement, clearly delineated. One thing I notice about the X5s production, in only the short time I've listened to them, is how the stage has grown. I don't know to what to attribute this fact, or, if not fact, then a very convincing illusion, but the sheer amount of space taken up by the soundstage has grown, and, with it, the size of the performers. I can't say it's truly life-size (that, I think, would be nigh on impossible in my modest living room), but it is noticeably and appreciably larger than it was initially, and, as a result, the performance is that much more compelling and convincing. The stage has greater dimension, the singers greater weight, seemingly more actual body. It really is remarkable, and, to someone such as I, who am little more than an idiot when it comes to technology, a wonder.
But, to continue. Eventually, Cherubino safely stowed in her cabinet and Susanna hidden stage-left, the Countess admits the Count, who sweeps into the room, his voice growing louder as he approaches the front of the stage demanding to know why the door was locked and, hearing a noise from the cabinet, who is hiding inside. There ensues a spectacular trio between the Countess and the Count, she insisting it's only Susanna getting dressed, the Count calling for Susanna to come out and show herself, and Susanna, her voice clearly off-stage left, wringing her hands and trying to think of a way out of the predicament. Apart from the music and drama itself, which is amusing, exciting, stressful, and beautiful all at once, it's another instance of the X5s ability to present a convincing soundstage, with the appropriate distance between the characters' voices and to render Susanna's clearly as being hidden off-stage, without her voice being at all muffled or occluded, spiraling above the others in an ecstasy of anxiety and fear. As the trio ends, the Count is on the point of calling the servants to force the cabinet door when the Countess, warning of the inevitable scandal this would lead to, convinces the Count, if he insists on forcing the door, to go get his own tools to open it with. The agrees, insisting the Countess accompany him. At this point, they leave the room, clearly exiting to the rear and right far corner of the stage, their voices and steps receding as they go. Again, the sense of space, of real people performing real actions in time and space, is absolutely convincing.
Once the Count and Countess leave the room, Susanna lets Cherubino out of the cabinet, his voice clearly moving from off-stage left to the center of the stage where the two of them run around the stage in a panic of what to do to extricate themselves from the trap. Again, in this turmoil of movement and music, their voices remain distinct, it always being clear who is singing, even when singing together, and where each of them is. At last Cherubino decides the only thing to do is to jump out the window into the garden and, should he survive the fall, run away, which he does, amid a whoop as he goes out the window and an off-stage crash of flower pots as he lands and runs off. Susanna then takes a moment to congratulate herself on such a successful outcome and coming trap for the Count, then locks herself in the cabinet, her voice changing place and timbre as it moves from center stage to the confines of the off-stage cabinet.
Again with a convincing and appropriate sense of space, the Count and Countess re-enter and thereon begins one of the truly great and dynamic and emotionally charged duets ever written, with the Count demanding the key to the cabinet door and the Countess prevaricating and stalling and sternly warning until at least she's browbeaten into admitting Cherubino is hidden in the closet, which leads to the powerful culmination of the duet, with the Countess on her knees (though this depends on the production) begging him not to kill Cherubino and the Count standing and singing imperiously over her, swearing Cherubino must die. The two of them are solidly center stage, the Countess to the left, guarding the cabinet door, the Count to the right, his voice solid, physical, powerful, and menacing. The scene is so charged, and the X5s do a wonderful and impeccable job of placing the voices and communicating the emotion of both voices. It is one of Mozart's many geniuses to be able to write ensemble parts for voices in which the singers are singing both different lines and expressing different emotions simultaneously, and the the X5s are excellent at representing the harmonic whole of the voices together as well as each individual voice and it's particular thought and sentiment. No system that I've owned has done such a beautiful job of revealing the parts and the whole at the same time. It makes all the difference.
At the climax of this duet, just as the Count is about to drag Cherubino from the cabinet, Susanna suddenly emerges, curtseying to them both, the music dying to a few sardonic chords, all the more ironic for the slack-jawed amazement of the Count and Countess. Their repetition of Susanna's name, one in stupefied relief, the other in utter bafflement, is priceless, particularly after the wild menacing fury of the duet. As before, the spacing between the singers, the entrance of Susanna as she emerges from the cabinet and places herself before the Count and Countess, is flawlessly rendered by the X5s. The triumph of Susanna, the relief and emerging comprehension of victory of the Countess, and the disbelief and once again confounded rage of the Count are all palpable, the staging and tremendous swing of feeling and drama captured perfectly.
It goes on from here, the Count going into the cabinet to satisfy his remaining suspicion, then Susanna and the Countess remorselessly rubbing it in, chastising the Count for his suspicions and anger and impugning of the Countess's character, all of it rendered equally believably, convincingly, and beautifully. I said earlier that I would find this opera delightful to listen to, that its wonders of harmony and feeling would be felt even on a clock radio, and that's true. However, let there be no mistake, hearing it produced so vividly, so feelingly, with such physicality and clarity as it is produced now through my X5s and their attendant gear, it is a phenomenon of the highest musical order, as compelling as I've ever heard it short of live, and I've both heard and performed this opera many times. Honestly, for sheer emotional impact, turning up the volume and sitting there just a few feet from the speakers, hearing these singers and this orchestra pouring themselves into this miraculous music, it is every bit as moving as it's been to hear it live. Of course, it is not live, and it lacks the incredible impression the best opera singers have on me when I watch them live and am agog at the power and beauty of their completely un-amplified voices. But hearing that incomparable music through these speakers in my living room, I am truly stunned at the veracity of the sound and its ability to move me. What will it sound like in another two, four, six weeks? I can't wait to find out.