What a contrast to the angular, disjointed and almost abstract structures and sharp dynamic and tonal contrasts of the Ligeti – all sudden interjections, bold and intense against the complex, freeform layers and space of the orchestral backing. This is difficult, clashing, often atonal and yet exhilarating music – at least it is on the Göbels. The Comtesse manages to master not only the brilliance of Faust’s playing against the formal structures of the Locatelli, but brings rhythmic rigour and precision to bind the disparate elements that explode (or maybe implode?) into the Ligeti. At the same time, there’s the contrast with the sparsely meandering beauty of the Cello opening to the second section (there are seven in all), the gorgeous duet that develops with the violin, before the angular attack and skittering, pizzicato passages bring back the startling and arresting quality that underpins the sheer intensity in the piece. The speakers have an uncanny ability to track both the structural and the dynamic demands in the performance, to work within the strictures of the Locatelli and also respond to the constantly shifting demands of the Ligeti, without stifling the former or losing the overall shape of and their grip on the latter. As an example of responsive, surefooted articulation it’s impressive: as impressive in its expressive range as Faust’s playing – which is surely the point.
In many ways, the examples above represent opposite extremes, musically, tonally and in presentational terms. But they also demonstrate the Göbels’ versatility and ability to stand behind the performance rather than between that performance and the listener. They explain not just what the speakers do but how they do it. Move to the centre ground and if the virtues are less obvious, the musical benefits become clearer still. Play Neil Young’s live album Massey Hall 1971 (Reprise PS 03) and from the explosive opening applause and the expansive acoustic to the weight, attack and precise pitch and spacing of the guitar notes and Young’s characteristic and oh so distinctively nasal voice, the immediacy, atmosphere and presence in the performance is as convincing as it is compelling. The space reaches forward to embrace the listener, Young is seated right there, the interlocking vocal and guitar lines, accents and emphasis drive home the songs, underpinning this heartfelt performance, its quiet intensity and intimacy – just as the contemporary headline writers had it. They were there and, after listening to the album on the Comtesse, you feel like you were, too. The transition from guitar to piano is seamless, the hesitations and spoken interjections between the tracks just add to the feeling of continuity and ‘being there’.
That speed, surefooted timing, pitch and spacing of notes extends down into the speaker’s bottom end, where bass instruments have a real sense of texture and character, attack and decay. It’s a world away from the tuneless thud that emanates from so many speakers trying to eek a bit more weight and impact from their bottom end (and, ironically, achieving one at the expense of the other). Play the Barbirolli/Hallé recording of Sibelius’s Second Symphony (HMV ASD 2308) and the extended pizzicato passage that opens the second movement is beautifully paced and motive, moving through the melodic rises and falls, the passing of the theme from basses to cellos – which so often goes unremarked – unusually clear and explicit, both spatially and in terms of instrumental weight and character, the subtle increase in attack to the notes. The timp rolls are especially impressive, with a natural texture and clarity that gives not just the sense of the skins, but of the rapid, individual strikes, rather than being just a smudge of low frequency energy. The speed of response necessary to capture these textural nuances and tiny shifts in level speaks volumes about both the low mass of the driver, the power of its motor and the controlled behaviour of its cone. This lack of sonic and musical inertia, perhaps more than anything else, is what makes the sound of the Comtesse so reminiscent of what people crave from electrostatic speakers – but what those speakers so seldom deliver. What the Comtesse demonstrates so unequivocally, is just how much performance you can get from a suitably sophisticated paper cone – even if many designers don’t.
