Nor is this level of musical connection limited to classical recordings. The degree of insight is going to depend on or be limited by what’s actually in the recording, but whatever’s there, the Minuets are going to do a great job of revealing it. Carefully considered semi-acoustic pop, such as Steve Dawson’s Sweet Is The Anchor (Undertow CD-UMC-028) opens up to embrace the listener, from the clearly defined studio space to the voices-off on the title track, the spread and location of the instruments, the lead vocal, central, immediate and present. The guitar lines seem so solid as to be almost sculpted. But it is the separation of the harmony vocals that’s really breath-taking. Dawson and Dolly Varden band-mate/partner Diane Christiansen blend their vocals with an effortless understanding that sees them almost meld. Many a system collapses them together, but the Minuets portray each voice as distinct and separate, without breaking the fragile link that binds them.
The relaxed lockstep of drums and bass on Cannonball Adderley’s ‘Autumn Leaves’ (Somethin’ Else, Blue Note BST 1595) underpins the trumpet and sax perfectly, with an unforced clarity and mobility that keeps things moving sweetly. It’s a perfect example of how the bass generated by the Minuets is both textured and tactile. I suspect that a lot of this is down to the size of the bass driver, which, akin to the huge diaphragms on the PureLow GR subs achieves a greater ‘grip’ on the air mass in the room. Whether that’s correct or not, there’s no missing the ease with which you can follow the undulating bass figures, the shape of the notes or their rhythmic centres. Like the Apogees before them, the Clarisys build the sound from the bottom up, a feature that accounts for their ability to bring music, dimensional, vital and breathing into the room with you. Up-shift to ‘Love For Sale’ and the increase in tempo, the sudden shifts in density and dynamic range are just as unforced and natural as the rhythm section on ‘Autumn Leaves’ – even if the crisp drumming and the agile fingering in the bass line is itself more immediately impressive. The brass soars, each instrument with its own instantly identifiable tone and texture, Hank Jones’ piano is, naturally enough, just as fluid and articulate. That sure-footed rhythmic fluency is a constant. It’s present in the measured accelerations, focussed energy and intent of Manfredo Kraemer’s Altre Follie (with Jordi Savall and Hespèrion XXI, AliaVox AVSA9844): it’s present in the filthy grooves with which the Minuet invests the insistent, almost addictive beats of the Bahama Social Club’s Cuban Tapes (Buyú Records BUO 12 CD).
Just as the speaker picks the identity of instruments, it is transparent to the driving amp(s). As well as the Bernings, I drove the Minuets with the VTL S-400-II and both single and bi-amped CH Precision M1.1s. while the bigger amps brought more headroom, they also brought their own distinct characters, while (unsurprisingly) neither matched the sheer speed and immediacy of the OTLs. Both alternative amplifiers also demanded a small but significant re-set in terms of speaker placement. In either case it was necessary to move the speakers forward by as much as 15mm in order to avoid the bottom end getting bloated and clogging the soundstage. Lateral placement remained unchanged but tweaks to rake ankle also elicited a more solid and focussed soundstage. Simply swapping from one amp to another, irrespective of what that amp is, really isn’t going to tell you much if anything about that amp’s mating with the Minuet. It’s not just that the speaker demands exacting set up to start with: each system change will require a positional adjustment. If what you are hearing sounds dull or sluggish, don’t blame the system: start by looking at the set-up.
