First, the good points. The Spectra 11 is non-fatiguing, non-irritating, and forgiving. The sound is smooth through the midrange, if not particularly detailed, but the speakers sound as if cropped at the top. And while they sound spacious—what you'd expect with electrostatic panels—I found their imaging not particularly precise. I couldn't always pinpoint instruments.

The bass didn't integrate well with the midrange and treble. In my room, I found it not just murky but muddy—like the old Carnegie Hall if you sat in the first few rows. Worse, I found these speakers to have the same dynamic limitations as the MartinLogan Sequel II—I couldn't get them to open up, dynamically. And this when driven by a Krell KSP-7B and KSA-80!

This is not a technical write-up, so I have no idea whether or not there's some phasing problem between the bass cabinet and the electrostatic panel—something which I suspect to be the case with the Sequel II. But the lack of dynamics, coupled with the surprising lack of transparency from the electrostatic panels, resulted in what I consider a lackluster overall sound.

Mind you, the Spectra 11s are not terrible—not by any stretch. Aside from the bass, they're free of colorations. And they're listenable—no midrange or treble nasties. At $999/pair, there's just so much you should expect from a pair of speakers. Sonically, you shouldn't expect to get MartinLogan Sequel clones, and you don't. What you do get, I'm afraid, despite the size of these speakers and the sophisticated technology, is just average sound for the money.

I'm shipping these speakers to Santa Fe. Perhaps they'll fare better in a different listening environment—be less boomy, for instance, or more dynamic.—Sam Tellig

My list for most recognized loudspeaker brands would most certainly have included JBL. How could it not? They have been involved in home high-fidelity since 1954. And for years before that in professional audio—primarily motion picture theater sound, a field in which they are still active. In short, they were around before there was such a thing as "hi-fi."

Audiophiles, of course, are very much aware of JBL products. But beyond that point we run into a curious split. While audiophiles of almost every description are familiar with the JBL name, the high-end audiophile has tended to overlook their loudspeakers for years. They were simply not "in" as perfectionist audio products. But they continued to have a strong following in wider audiophile circles (footnote 1).

I don't know where the divergence began, but it seems likely that it occurred in the '60s, when the concepts of "East Coast" and "West Coast" sound originated. Back then, it was easy to define the two. "East Coast" was AR and, perhaps, KLH. Loudspeakers designed primarily for the home. Linear, refined, and maybe just a bit bland. "East Coast" more often than not was also called "New England sound," since most of the manufacturers were located in and around Boston. "West Coast" meant excitement. Flash. Powie zowie sound. Not particularly natural, but who cared? It was like, happening, man. And, not coincidentally, the West Coast also meant Hollywood, where the bending of reality was an institution.

There was also more than a trace of cultural snobbery involved. East Coast sound meant classical, West Coast meant rock. And when you thought of West Coast sound, you thought first of JBL. It was also no coincidence that JBL, located in the heart of the Los Angeles pop recording and film industries, found its way into the hearts (and studios) of the vast majority of pop recording engineers.

The terms East Coast and West Coast sound ceased to have meaning years ago. Loudspeakers which roughly fit both stereotypes are now produced everywhere. In at least one important respect, however, East Coast sound won the war—loudspeakers from all points of the compass are substantially more natural-sounding and linear today than they were 20 years ago.

But JBL's very success in the recording-studio business branded them as a "rock speaker" in the hearts of a significant number of audiophiles. The first glimmer that this would not forever remain the case came in the mid-'80s, with the introduction of JBL's 250Ti loudspeaker, reviewed in Vol.8 No.6. It was a serious attempt to cater to high-end tastes, which, commented JGH in his review, could no longer be ignored as the high end was becoming an important and influential market segment.

That early model incorporated a titanium-dome tweeter. Metal-dome tweeters were just beginning to make an impact—largely in British designs. (It was Celestion which awakened interest in this technology in the early '80s when they designed a metal-dome tweeter for their then-new SL6 loudspeaker system.) While JGH had serious reservations about the 250Ti's overall sound in his 1985 review, he raved about its high-frequency response: "Gorgeous!" (italics and exclamation point his). JBL's latest high-end–oriented effort—the XPL series—is an entire line of loudspeakers incorporating the latest version of that tweeter. And a lot of other new developments as well.

The XPL-160 is one step down from the top of the line, but incorporates most of the line's technology. First off, of course, is that tweeter. Its titanium dome is embossed with a rib pattern to improve rigidity, its pleated surround is made of the same material to reduce nonlinearities, and its metal frame and ferrofluid loading aid in dispersing heat. The latter helps minimize dynamic compression (a change in linearity with increasing level), one of the primary objectives of the XPL series. A two-position tweeter-level control—normal and –2dB—is provided on the back panel.

Below 4kHz the new tweeter crosses over to a 3" metal-dome midrange. Early versions of this driver have been showing up for two or three years now in JBL's CES demos—in products which never made it to market. Metal-dome drivers of this size are rare; the only other one I know of is an MB used in the Avalon Ascent and the Thiel CS5. The MB, however, uses aluminum for its diaphragm, the JBL titanium. As was the case with the JBL tweeter, the midrange has a ribbed diaphragm and a pleated, titanium surround. It's a fascinating driver, said to be capable of linear response from 500Hz to 7kHz with a sensitivity of 94dB. JBL's measurements show that the high-frequency resonance of this driver lies at about 17kHz—common with metal diaphragms and well above the crossover point as used in the XPL-160.

Protective wire-mesh grilles cover both the midrange and tweeter diaphragms, which are very fragile. These grilles may be removed with some difficulty and a lot of caution. I don't recommend it—you'll probably void your warranty. Metal domes dent rather easily and, unlike soft domes, once dented, cannot be repaired and must be replaced. I did all of my auditioning with the grilles in place.

The XPL-160's low-frequency driver uses a polymer-coated fiber cone with a heavy cast frame. Reflex loading is used, with a rear-mounted vent. The crossover is configured for bi-wiring, and internal wiring is Monster Cable.

The XPL-160's enclosure is not your average box. The midrange and tweeter (which are offset slightly on the baffle—the left and right loudspeakers are mirror-imaged pairs) are set back slightly from the woofer to improve the time coherence of the drive-units (a slight tilt provided by the dedicated stands provides further offset), and a 6mm-thick layer of Neoprene covers the top half of the baffle to help control diffraction. The very unconventional baffle is constructed of medium-density fiberboard combined with Reaction Molded Foam—a material used in automotive bumpers. The foam adds thickness to the baffle and has good damping properties. The trapezoidal cross-section of the enclosure adds visual interest and, together with internal bracing, minimizes cabinet colorations. The classic "knuckle-rap" test produced a well-damped, high-pitched sound.

Triangle has since become one of France's top three hi-fi manufacturers, and Stereophile has reviewed several Triangle loudspeakers over the years. Sam Tellig has long been a fan of the company's designs; Paul Messenger reviewed Triangle's Magellan Concerto in March 2005; and Art Dudley favorably reviewed the Esprit Comete Ex bookshelf model in April 2008. "The Esprit Comete Ex is a fine thing," he concluded, "a much better and more musical loudspeaker than one usually finds at this price and size, or from such a mainstream company."

But I had never lived with a pair of Triangle speakers. It was high time I did, so I agreed to review the second model from the top of Triangle's new Signature line, the Delta ($8000/pair).

The Signature Delta. . .
. . . is an attractive tower standing 4' tall. Set into the top of the enclosure is a bullet-shaped, gloss-black module containing the TZ2550 tweeter, which operates above 2.7kHz. This is the same titanium-dome unit, acoustically loaded with a die-cast aluminum horn, that's used in Triangle's top Magellan line. It sits immediately above a large-diameter, treated-paper-cone midrange unit that covers almost a decade, from 280Hz to 2.7kHz, and is constructed on a 7.3" aluminum frame. The midrange's cone is terminated with a narrow, pleated, short-travel surround. Although it has a dustcap, this is profiled to resemble a phase plug.

The twin 7.3" woofers are mounted above and below a large, flared port halved by a horizontal divider. Each woofer has a fiberglass cone fitted with an aluminum dustcap and terminated with an inverted half-roll rubber suspension. The motor uses two ferrite magnets and a double-layered voice-coil. All four drive-units are manufactured in-house. Electrical connection is via two pairs of binding posts mounted on an inset copper-alloy panel on the cabinet's rear, and all the internal cabling is by Kimber Kable.

The handsome enclosure is formed from seven layers of high-density fiberboard, each 3mm thick; the sidewalls are gently curved, and the top of the cabinet is beveled at an angle of 5°. The front baffle is barely wider than the midrange unit and woofers, to optimize horizontal dispersion, and the cabinet is raised a couple of inches from the floor by a black plinth. This plinth is 5" wider than the cabinet, but cut away at the front to allow an inverted conical foot to connect the enclosure to the floor. My review samples were finished in a beautiful mahogany veneer, brought to a high gloss with 10 coats of lacquer. Black frame grilles are supplied, but the speaker looks stunning without them: a combination of high technology and seductive-looking furniture. With so many speakers these days manufactured in the Far East, I noted Triangle's statement that "the Signature range is made entirely in Soissons [France]."

Listening
I listened to the Signature Deltas without their grilles, and the speakers toed in to the listening position. However, when I sat in my usual chair, my ears were 10" below the tweeter axis, so I tilted up the backs of the speakers with pairs of original Tiptoes, which aimed the tweeters at my ears. After some experimentation, the Deltas ended up in almost the same spots as the Joseph Audio Perspectives, which I'd reviewed in July: the woofers were 34" from the LP cabinets and bookcases that form the sidewalls, and the front baffles were 86" from the wall behind them.

Dual-mono pink noise sounded hollow if I stood up, but had an even balance, with no obvious coloration, when my ears were on or below the tweeter axis. The central image was quite narrow and well defined, although slightly more presence-region energy was audible from the right-channel speaker (serial no.333) than from the left (no.334).

Listening with a stethoscope to the enclosure's walls as I rapped them with a knuckle, I could hear some low-level liveliness in the upper midrange, but also a slightly metallic, ringing overtone. Listening again with the stethoscope while I played the half-step–spaced toneburst track from my Editor's Choice (CD, Stereophile STPH016-2), the cabinet seemed to be most excited between 400Hz and 1kHz, but to be fair, this was at a low level.

Back at the listening chair, the lower-frequency tonebursts spoke very cleanly for a ported design, though the region below 64Hz seemed a little reticent. The low-frequency, 1/3-octave warble tones on Editor's Choice were reproduced with full weight down to the 50Hz band, with the 32Hz band given some help by the lowest-frequency mode in my room. The 40, 25, and 20Hz bands were less audible. Even so, a pipe-organ recording I recently made in Oregon, with the Ayre Acoustics QA-9 USB analog-to-digital converter, of Jonas Nordwall playing the famous Toccata from Widor's Organ Symphony 6 in Portland's First United Methodist Church (24-bit/88.2kHz AIFF file), had tremendous weight through the Deltas when the bass pedals descended to 32Hz and below, yet without boom or blurring.

The Signature Delta's low frequencies had excellent pace and force. Despite the sonic damage done to the low frequencies by the Dolby Digital encoding—why lossy compression should degrade the lows, I have no idea—Pino Palladino's driving bass guitar in "Every Day I Have the Blues," from the John Mayer Trio's Where the Light Is: John Mayer Live in Los Angeles (16/48 ALAC ripped from DVD-V, Sony 722727), reproduced by the Deltas, got me up from the listening chair to do the "humpty dance," as Wes Phillips once described me doing. Palladino's bass lines in this track, of course, were aided by the drumming of the incomparable Steve Jordan.

A match made in Maidstone
Only a few attempts at using coincident drive-units in reference-quality speakers have been successful. Among KEF's UK competition, Tannoy's well-regarded coincident-driver technology has been around for decades. On the other side of the planet, and more recently, TAD of Japan uses coincident drivers in its high-end speakers designed by Andrew Jones. (Jones also designed a line of Pioneer speakers that employed a coincident drive-unit inspired by the TAD designs.) SEAS, a Norwegian company, also produces coincident drivers, though it's best known as a supplier of quality drivers to other manufacturers and the DIY market rather than for producing its own, finished speakers.

Beyond that, however, the pickings are slim. I use the term coincident here to refer to a dual-element drive-unit that positions the tweeter deep in the center of a bass/midrange (or dedicated midrange) driver. A more common term for such a driver is coaxial, but to me that's more appropriately used to refer to a dual-element driver that simply puts a tweeter in front of the woofer cone. Terms to clearly distinguish the two have not been standardized, but the coaxial arrangement invariably interferes with the radiation from the woofer cone and colors the midrange, and is not commonly found in serious loudspeaker designs.

Positioning the tweeter inside the throat of the midrange or mid/woofer cone has advantages and disadvantages. The advantage is a concentric radiation pattern that should be uniform in all directions, without the usual comb-filtering interference common to all multiway speakers with separately situated drivers. In the latter category, which includes the vast majority of speakers, the drivers are generally positioned vertically. This restricts the inevitable driver-to-driver interference primarily to the vertical axis, though such speakers remain more or less sensitive to listening height.

Positioning the tweeter at the apex of a waveguide (a short horn) also offers the advantage of better matching the radiation patterns of the woofer and tweeter at the crossover frequency—an issue known to speaker designers but not always well addressed. But in the Uni-Q the waveguide for the tweeter is the midrange cone. If not well-designed, this can have adverse effects on the smoothness of tweeter's response. However, in 25 years of consistent refinement, including the so-called "Tangerine" waveguide positioned in front of the tweeter dome, KEF has largely eliminated this issue.

East meets West
KEF's R series of speakers, designed in the UK but manufactured in the company's factory in China, includes two bookshelf models and three floorstanders. For home theaters, there are also a surround speaker, a subwoofer, and two center-channel models. A coincident driver is ideal for use in a horizontally configured center speaker, as it largely eliminates the comb-filtering dips that plague such designs for listeners sitting off-center. But there's no reason why the R-series center designs can't be upended and set on suitable stands, for audiophiles who prefer that arrangement, and used for two-channel stereo. The main downside to that approach will be less bass extension from enclosures smaller than those of their floorstanding cousins. The R700 is specified down to 37Hz (–6dB), while the R600c center speaker, also with two 6.5" woofers, is rated only to 50Hz (–6dB).

The R700, my subject here, is the middle model of the R-series floorstanders. It consists of a 5" Uni-Q driver specifically designed for midrange and treble duties, together with a pair of concave-coned, 6.5" woofers in a ported enclosure covering the range below 500Hz. All of the cones, and the tweeter dome, are aluminum. The Uni-Q is positioned between the two woofers in a vertical D'Appolito configuration.

Around back are two ports; KEF provides adjustable foam bungs that can be used to fully or partially block one or both ports, as needed. Dual terminals are also included for biwiring or biamping, if desired. Instead of the usual straps that connect such terminals for single-wiring, there's a knob on the terminal plate that either straps the terminals together or disconnects them, depending on whether it's turned fully clockwise or counterclockwise. If you biamp the speakers, however, be careful to check how this knob is set; without visible connecting straps, you can't tell by looking if the terminals are unlinked. Tying the outputs of two amps in parallel can ruin your day.

The R700's cabinet appears to be very well built, and comes beautifully finished in one of four options. Two of these are in a satin-finished, real-wood veneer rather than the glossy look common to many Asian-built speakers. Our Rosewood samples were flawless, and so smoothly finished I could feel no texture on them at all. The speakers also come with metal feet that not only provide additional stability but also offer easy adjustment of the provided spikes.

Room and Setup
I've been using the same listening room for nearly 14 years now—an eternity in audiophile years—so have become fairly familiar with its sonic signature. Measuring about 27' by 15.5' (at its widest) by 8', depending on how balky my laser measure is on any given day, it was designed to be a combined living and dining space. But apart from living with music and movies, the room is used for neither living nor dining. I've blocked all the windows with lightweight fiberboard, which likely has some acoustic effect apart from its intended purpose of blocking light for daytime video evaluations. It certainly cuts down possible reflections from the roughly 12' expanse of windows on one of the long walls. Some day I'll take down the fiberboard just to see if any critters have taken up residence there in the decade and a half since its installation.

In any event, the basic setup of that system was determined back in those dim, Neanderthal days of 2000, when $25,000/pair speakers were merely visions of sugarplums in the collective minds of high-end audio marketing departments, when CRT projectors and standard-definition DVDs passed for awesome on the video side, home-theater magazines were 150 pages, and we all thought the world would end at midnight (EST, of course) on December 31, 1999.

The very first products I reviewed in this room were a Madrigal projector and the first generation of Revel's Performa speakers, anchored at the front by the F30 floorstanders. At that time I determined the best positions for the speakers, allowing only for the width required by the projection screen. The latter has subsequently been supplemented by a wider screen more appropriate for HD video and today's brighter digital projectors. But my original, preferred speaker positions, adjusting only for the somewhat wider spacing required by that somewhat wider screen, remain, since for my home-theater work the speakers must support the screens, which are suspended from the ceiling and can't be moved. (I can retract them when the main course is music.)

The plane described by the baffles of the front speakers is about 7' out from the wall behind them. The left speaker is about 4' from the left wall, the right speaker about 3' from the right. A carpet covers most of the solid-oak floor, which is suspended above a crawl space, not a concrete slab. With the carpet, the soundboard, and a few acoustic panels, the acoustic of the room is well damped. There are also several storage shelves loaded with CDs, SACDs, BDs, DVDs, LPs (not much used by me at present, alas), and even a few remaining laserdiscs (not used at all!). There are also a few built-in cabinets, which provide useful diffusion. The walls are lath and plaster, not drywall. There's an open doorway to the kitchen abeam the left speaker; two other room doors are generally left closed during listening.

Listening
I initially placed the KEFs in the positions described above, driven full-range with two-channel sources by my resident Integra DTC-9.8 surround processor used strictly as a 2.0-channel digital preamp. The amp used throughout the review was the Parasound Halo A 51, again using only two of its five channels. The source was a Marantz UD7006 universal player, with a coaxial digital link between the player and the Integra. Though most of my listening was to CDs, the Marantz was also supplemented by an Oppo BDP-105D universal player for SACD and DVD-Audio playback.

The first listening test went only well. The sound was clean and smooth, but almost too smooth. The bass was fairly extended but a bit uneven. Many of the speakers—including KEF's larger R900s—that I've reviewed in these positions do reasonably well, but without the help of a subwoofer or two, only the largest speakers I've tested there have been truly impressive in the bottom end.

Since there was no need in this review for the speakers to be locked in to my favored positions in order to support a video screen, I was able to move them closer to the front wall. I also moved the listening chair a bit closer. While I couldn't find perfect positions (in-room measurements at the new locations showed bass extension to the mid-30Hz with both ports open), but apart from a significant dip around 60Hz, the balance was much better. At that point the R700s were just under 8' apart, 9' from my listening chair, and 4.5' from the wall behind them, with all ports fully open. The speakers were angled in toward the listening seat, their cabinets tilted slightly back to compensate for the tweeters being about 5" below the height of my ears when I'm seated. The latter had more to do with being closer to the tweeter axis than with any midrange/tweeter interference, the latter clearly not a factor with a coincident driver.

Actually, it's pretty easy to poke fun at a $35,000 speaker system—kind of like making tall-man jokes about Kareem Abdul Jabbar. The question is, is this the best speaker system you can buy? I've only spent a portion of two days with the WAMM, but I would have to say it's the best speaker system I've ever heard, and I'd love to have a pair in my house. (I've even got the floor and walls to withstand the weight and low frequencies.) I'm not an authority on the Infinity IRS or the Levinson HQD (which at $29,000 and $24,000 respectively are the only speakers competing in this price category), so I can't really make a valid comparison with the competition, though I have heard both of those systems. (An A/B comparison would require a forklift!)

Compared to the experience of live music, the WAMM does some things well that I have not heard reproduced music do before, and that's certainly one of the main criteria. In addition to that, the WAMM proved useful in making evaluations of other equipment to a degree I've not experienced before. To say that every equipment reviewer should own one of these systems (what would the folks at The Sensible Sound magazine say to that?) is both fatuous and not strictly to the point. It is not, after all, through WAMMs that a clear majority of readers will be listening to their amplifiers and cartridges. I can only reiterate that I would love to have them in my home (perhaps a utility cabinet could drop the price a few $k), both for listening to music and for evaluating equipment.

Description
First, a description. The complete WAMM system consists of six pieces: two 6½' subwoofers (also available in a low, fatter version); two 6½'"full-range array towers" containing the mid-bass, midrange, and high-frequency drivers; one modified Crown equalizer (!!); and an electronic crossover. As implied by the term Modular in the name, the pieces are available separately: two full-range arrays with equalizer and personal calibration ($28,000), one or two subwoofers with electronic crossover by themselves ($4500 for one, $8000 for two), and the modified equalizer by itself ($1500). Other than the arrays, these are not unheard-of prices in high-end audio. The subwoofer modules are large, quite attractive boxes, heavily reinforced, which are simply enclosures for the extraordinary Magnat woofers that were mentioned last year in Stereophile (Vol.5 No.5). I have never seen a woofer as well-constructed as the Magnat. As a machine for moving air under control they seem without peer—although I'm sure the people at Hartley and Yamaha (who make a 24" and a 36" woofer, respectively) would differ with me on that point.

For some time now I've been leaning towards the opinion that smaller, highly-controlled woofers are the way to go in low- frequency reproduction. Considering that the Magnats in the WAMM system respond flat (or a little up, depending on your sitting position) down to 20Hz at sound pressure levels up to 120dB (10% harmonic distortion), they could be considered a small woofer.

The full-array towers themselves each consist of 15 separate drivers: two KEF B139 woofers mounted in an extremely well-sealed, well-baffled box which serves as a base for the remainder of the array; one modified Braun satellite speaker mounted on a handsome cast-aluminum "beanpole" immediately above the midbass enclosure; the electrostatic array (9 panels) mounted further up the array; and finally an additional Braun satellite speaker at the top of the beanpole (up where the Giant lives, so to speak). The satellites and electrostatic array are extended out in front of the vertical beanpole on aluminum rods which are themselves adjustable forward and back. The whole thing is not unattractively reminiscent of a schematic for ET, or maybe ET with a little ET riding on his (her?) shoulders.

Although ungainly, it is not unattractive, and I found the WAMMs less oppressive than the Acoustat 2+2s, which visually dominate a room in an inescapable fashion. Definitely not for small rooms (although Wilson Audio says rooms as small as 2000 cubic feet are suitable from a sonic standpoint) or audiophiles dedicated to disguising their fanatical interest in reproduced sound.

The electronic crossover is packaged in a separate chassis which can be stacked above the equalizer. The equalizer has been modified significantly by Wilson Audio, primarily by installing integrated circuit chips (with a much higher slew rate) and precision film capacitors. The original Crown costs $1200 and allows ±15dB of equalization in 11 octaves, with the centerpoint of each octave widely adjustable. At the Wilson's house the largest variation from flat was 2dB, with most octaves equalized less than that. For those of you horrified by an equalizer, Dave Wilson pointed out that this equalizer causes 3° of phase shift for each dB of equalization; in the Wilson home there was from the equalizer a total phase shift of 6° from 0. I would be astonished to read evidence of someone detecting this amount of phase shift (though obviously the equalization itself would be detectible—that's why it's in there).

Sound Quality
How do they sound? There's been much discussion in the press of the WAMM's abilities to reproduce low frequencies at high volume levels. The shaking of several floors of the Riviera Hotel at the 1983 Las Vegas CES comes immediately to mind. These reports are not unfounded. The amount of press attention to low frequencies also reflects the interests of the WAMM's designer, David Wilson.

Just before I left the Wilson house in Novato I was "treated" to a fairly high-level audition of one of Dave's master tapes (Wilson Audio also makes records, which are not infrequently reviewed in these pages) wherein the organ used in one of Dave's records plays a 16Hz note for some time. Dave had me sit in his favorite spot for that cut where he confessed, with a twinkle in his eye, the 16Hz tone was reproduced about 2dB above reference level. In other words, he's a bass freak.

For those of you not used to hearing 16Hz at high volume (that should include almost every¬ one), it ain't fun if you're not a bass freak. Although clearly audible, a primary mode of sensing 16Hz is through your organs: stomach, kidney, liver, etc. which are not accustomed to being shaken around that way. Although I didn't like it, I must confess the organ sounded very realistic and the sound was reproduced without apparent effort, distortion, or strain. That's a real accomplishment for any sound reproduction system.

Focusing on the extraordinary low-frequency capabilities of the WAMMs misses the point, though. Their true value to the music-lover lies elsewhere. There are three character¬ istics that I found remarkable: a "bloom" in the mid and upper bass region, which allows the power of an orchestra to almost overwhelm you in live performances; seamless presentation of the entire frequency range, so that one thinks only of instruments and voices, not individual drivers; and uncanny imaging—so specific that it's almost unrealistic.

The demonstration at the Riviera Hotel used a record with which I'm intimately familiar (Hot Stix on the M&K label). At one point in the record, the drummer beats the rim of a drum with his sticks, producing an unusual, very woody sound. On the WAMMs it was possible to hear the drum stick move from one point on the rim of the drum to a point only 2" away, both points clearly defined (aurally) in the air. Fantastic! I'm sure this effect would not have been so dramatic in a live performance, just as I'm sure it's information the microphones (which are frequently much closer to the performer than any listener) captured and which I was hearing reproduced accurately for the first time.

Seamless presentation of the frequency range is a characteristic shared by other speakers, even some that are not all that expensive. The Quad ESL-63, the Thiel 03a, and the new Spica TC-50 come to mind. What is unusual, and truly an achievement, is that the WAMMs do this with a complex, hybrid system over a very wide range of frequencies, much wider than the other speakers mentioned and at much higher sound pressure levels. Hybrid systems have a strong tendency to remind you of their different driver characteristics, and of the struggle the designer had in getting them to blend together. The Plasmatronics and HQD, to mention two otherwise excellent systems, are good examples. I would say that Dave Wilson has overcome this problem, certainly to a large degree. Whether he has completely overcome it would require much more extended listening; probably he has not. His technique for coming as close as he does will be described below.

I've saved the best for last. To say the mid and upper bass "bloom" referred to above is unusual would be a dramatic understatement. In my experience virtually all systems fail down when it comes to portraying the dynamics of live music, particularly orchestral music. Along with the upper midrange stress that always seems to accompany disc reproduction, there is an unwillingness of the system to increase its volume level as the orchestra reaches a crescendo, particularly at lower frequencies. Speakers that reproduce mid and upper bass dramatically are boomy; non-boomy speakers sound too lean. The absence of this difficulty is a hallmark of live music. The little drivers in their boxes just can't match the 80 players with their celli, trombones, french horns, and fiddles up on that stage.

The magic had its price, though. Standing up eliminated the highs. Turning my head collapsed the soundstage. I was forced to sit immobile, facing straight ahead, lest the sensation disappear. I became a selfish listener with these speakers, requiring severe prodding or intimidation to give up the sweet spot. These were not the speakers of choice for critical group listening, or late-nite cuddling with a loved one. Nevertheless, they were excellent conduits for the passage of information to this music lover, and still serve, without fuss, as fine reviewer's tools.

Those who value a carefully assembled hi-fi system for the degree of musical involvement it provides will be glad to know Acoustat is alive and well and still making loudspeakers (their electrostatic panels still carry an unprecedented lifetime warranty). James C. Strickland, Acoustat's chief engineer for the past 20 years and the man responsible for development of the new Spectra series of hybrid and full-range models, and Andy Szabo, Director of Engineering (also an avid model railroader), beamed with pride at the Spectras displayed in Acoustat's hospitality suite in Las Vegas last January. Tom Norton's glowing Vol.13 No.2 review of the Spectra 11s was a year old and arrangements were being made to have the 1100s, sitting mute in a room somewhere in Stereophile's office compound, brought to my apartment for audition.

The thought of living with another pair of heavy speakers about the same height as myself (setting them up, you literally waltz across the floor with them, as you would a woman in a dance hall) was a bit scary considering the modest size of my living quarters, but I bravely accepted the assignment: I wanted to hear these babies. Would these hybrids be an improvement over my beloved Model Twos? Would I hear a lack of integration between the dynamic woofer and the electrostatic panel (as I do with the hybrid MartinLogan Sequel IIs)? Would I experience true bass response (which I do not with the Sequels or my Model Twos)? Would they be as persnickety regarding room and head placement? Would they, above all else, provide me the same degree of involvement in the music, and for the same amount of time, as I was accustomed to? The questions poured forth as voluminously as hail falls in our brief Southwestern summer thunderstorms as I helped Danny Sandoval carry the 1100s, casket-like, up the stairs to my apartment.

Description
I see little need to repeat Tom Norton's detailed account of the history and principles of electrostatic loudspeakers in his review of the Spectra 11s (February 1990), or Dick Olsher's review of the Spectra 22s (October 1989). For those readers interested in such details, I refer you to those articles.

The Spectra 1100s share the same "hybrid" design as the less expensive 11s; ie, they combine an 8" acoustically suspended woofer with a single, variable-width electrostat. They differ from the 11s in that the bass driver (sourced in-house) uses a stiffer, higher-quality felted cone material with an improved butyl rubber surround. The magnet is also larger, weighing 23oz compared with the 11's 14.4oz. Different woofer-enclosure material (medium-density fiberboard on the 1100s compared to particleboard on the 11s) is said to contribute to their improved bass performance.

Other differences include a three-position, high-frequency contour switch (located on the back of the interface chassis) to adjust the speaker's top-octave response. With this switch in the "high" position, response is down 3dB at 19kHz. The other settings each cause an attenuation of about 2dB at that same frequency. There is no "correct" setting, as each listener will have his/her own preference. For most of my listening evaluation, I left the switch in the medium position. I found the "high" position gave a livelier sound to some recordings, especially if they had a tendency to sound held back. The "low" position relaxed the sound a bit (a quality which benefited many pop recordings).

Whereas the Spectra 11s had a single pair of 5-way binding posts, thus precluding bi-wiring or bi-amping, the Spectra 1100s have two sets of 5-ways, facilitating such configurations. I didn't particularly like the posts being recessed as they were, though. My fingers, which some have said resemble bananas, had difficulty maneuvering especially stiff and bulky speaker cable, such as TARA Labs' Temporal Continuum, onto the posts. Things can get really crowded back there when you bi-wire/bi-amp!

Removable spiked feet are provided to couple the speakers firmly to the floor. Do not attempt to move these speakers around with the spikes attached! Not only will you stand a good chance of destroying your carpet, you might bend or pull out the fittings the spikes screw into. Position the speakers, then attach the spikes and level 'em up. Incidentally, I ended up using the spikes supplied with the Spica Angelus instead of those included with the Acoustats. The Spica spikes were longer and heavier, giving the speakers a solid coupling to the floor, despite my 1½"-thick carpet and pad. Unlike my Model Twos, which sound best tilted back slightly, the Spectras should stand straight up.

Other differences between the 11s and 1100s are largely cosmetic, including hand-rubbed, solid wood accent trim with a brass inlay surrounding the electrostatic array. Choices of dark oak or high-gloss painted black wood veneers, beige, black, or silvery-grey grille cloths, are also available. My pair of 1100s looked quite attractive in dark oak veneer and trim. The beige grille cloth made the speakers less imposing in my off-white room. Finally, the 1100s are 1" wider and 4.5" shorter than the 11s. The woofer box is 2" deeper.

Listening impressions
This section could be titled "A Speaker in Search of an Amp." I discovered, during the time I spent with the Spectras, that they were quite "picky" regarding the choice of amp. To me this is not a bad thing, as I've found that the better a component is, the more sensitive it is to ancillary equipment. Part of the thrill of the high end is discovering that combination of components which enables a system to truly "sing" in a musical way. Careful system matching is a must with gear at this level.

It didn't take too long to realize that low-powered amplifiers were not complimentary to the Acoustats, the speakers' low-end response and dynamic capabilities suffering when not fed properly. For example, my initial listening was with Quicksilver monoblocks placed between the Spectras, sitting on custom-made bases from Paul Amato (footnote 1). With the Quicksilvers powered up, I fed the Tercet a recent CD purchase, Kodály's Sonata for Solo Cello, Op.8, performed by the Spanish virtuoso Luis Claret (Harmonia Mundi HMC 901325, footnote 2). Upon hearing the first notes, I realized what it was that compelled me to cling to the Quicksilver/Acoustat partnership for so long. These amps where made to reproduce cello!

It appears we made a wrong decision there. Readers' letters indicated that, while few had anv intention of purchasing an HQD, they were nonetheless interested in knowing whether or not the system was indeed as good as it was claimed to be. We were considering requesting one for testing when, by sheer chance, we had an opportunity to hear the system in a dealer's showroom. We have decided not to test one in our offices. Here's why:

We had been invited to attend a demonstration of the then-new Sony PCM-1 digital-audio recording system in a Philadelphia store (late in 1978). Sony had brought along a single recorded cassette containing about 30 minutes of short musical selections in the PCM format, and this was played through a pair of Precedent Mod-3 speakers after the spoken presentation. After the demonstration, we proposed that the PCM equipment be moved into the plush upstairs salon where the HQD system was set up, to see how the PCM would sound through them. We were not impressed, but—as we explained to Chestnut Hill propretor Jack Rubinson—there was really no way we could pin down what we heard without our knowing what the program material sounded like.

In order to settle that question, we requested (and received) that same PCM demo tape when we borrowed the PCM-1 for the review in this issue, and have since had an opportunity to audition it in relation to other, familiar source material. We are now in a position to report that, while the PCM material left some things to be desired (it was somewhat soft at the high end, for example, although that was the fault of the tape, not of the PCM unit we tested), it was not causing the rather gross aberrations we heard from the HQD system that night. These were: A somewhat heavy, loose low end, a slightly closed-in top (ie, more so than on the PCM tape), and the same kind of super-rich, overly-fat middle range we have heard before when stacked Quads are used without equalization to compensate for their rising lower range when the normal front-to-rear sound cancellation is offset by the doubled radiating area (fig.1).

The system had many things going for it in terms of imaging, smoothness and remarkable inner detail, but the sound of every instrument reproduced by the system was so darkened by that lower-middle-range hype that nothing we heard sounded more than remotely like the real instruments playing in or behind the room.

So, we wrote a long, rather unkind report on the HQD, pointing out that, if that was typical of the way it was supposed to sound (And why not, after Mr. Levinson had installed and tweaked it?), then it had to be the most expensive bomb ever to be made available for civilian use. Mr. Levinson responded with a phone call during which he:

1) Told us we had not heard it at its best, but refused to address himself to our specific criticisms;

2) Claimed that many practicing professional musicians felt the HQD to be "extremely realistic";

3) Informed us that, since he sold very few HQD systems and would soon be discontinuing them anyway because Quad had ceased making those speakers, the "sensible" thing to do would be to kill the report; and

4) Mentioned, just in passing of course, that he was currently writing a feature article for Time on the subject of "underground" audio magazines.

We could just imagine how our writeup would read: "This irresponsible publication attacks dedicated, perfectionist manufacturers, one of which is a musician (And who can better judge musical sound than a musician?), and reports on products that it has auditioned in stores on the basis of a 30-minute listen to unfamiliar program material."

We agreed to kill the report. We did not however say we would not write another one explaining in more detail how we reached our conclusions concerning the sound of the HQD. Perhaps the system does sound better in some other dealer showrooms. (We were urged to visit a dealer in Florida who has one working "properly.") Room acoustics can do strange things. But we have worked with stacked Quads before, we know what happens to that lower middle range, and we learned from Mr. Levinson that he had taken no measures to correct that problem.

To us, it is then a reasonable assumption that what we heard is characteristic of that system, and will impair its ability to reproduce instrumental timbres in the vast majority of listening rooms.

In view of the former problem, there is little point in analyzing the HQD's sound further, except to hazard an educated guess that the low end would have been much improved had it used an array of smaller woofers (with lower cone mass) and a higher-powered amplifier than the 24W Mark Levinson ML-2 monoblock.

Incidentally, we can well understand why many musicians will like the HQD. Despite its weaknesses, it is one of the few systems that have detail without stridency. And anyone with a musician's familiarity with live-instrument sound can mentally fill in the deficiencies of the reproduction.

There is no question about Mr. Levinson's integrity. We know enough about him to know he is sincerely interested in music and in the accurate reproduction thereof. We simply disagree with what he obviously envisions as accuracy.

He is clearly seeking things in reproduced sound that we consider to be of secondary importance to that rather elusive illusion of aliveness—what has been called the grestait or total impression of live-music sound. It is that quality which we found missing from the HQD that we heard, and which we have reason to doubt the system is capable of in most listening environments.

Just as an afterthought, we called the editor of Time and asked whether he didn't think it constituted a conflict of interest to have a high-end equipment manufacturer "reviewing" magazines that review his products? He didn't know anything about any such article. Maybe, we figured, we had mis-heard the publication's name. Maybe Mr. Levinson had said "The (New York) Times." Their editorial offices didn't know anything about such an article either. Now we are putting it to Mr. Levinson: Who are you writing that article for? Or were you putting us on? (footnote 1)—J. Gordon Holt