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Zanden Audio Systems 120 Phonostage

Zanden Audio Systems 120 Phonostage

Many months ago I reviewed the companion pieces to this phonostage—the all-tube Zanden Audio Model 8120 stereo power amplifier and the all-tube Model 3100 linestage preamplifier. To refresh you on what I said in that review, the unique, patented circuits of Zanden electronics are the work of Kazutoshi Yamada, an electrical engineer who, since founding Zanden in 1980, has literally dedicated his life to electronics design. Yamada’s single-minded, near-religious devotion to perfecting his art strikes me as typically Japanese, as is his use of the absolute sound as his reference (since 1980 he has acted as an “audio coordinator” for more than 500 live classical and jazz events). All of Yamada’s efforts have been aimed at bridging the still sizable gap between what we hear in actual concerts and what we hear on our stereo systems.

Japanese perfectionism may not be a new story, but for me it is still an inspiring one. Of course, men like Mr. Yamada want to earn a living, but they also want to do this “honorably,” by creating the finest examples of their art—and in the Japanese high-end community making high-fidelity components is every inch an art, no matter how much science is applied in the process. Such aestheticism is a refreshing change from the “by-the-numbers” approach of many of the foremost engineers here and in Europe, where products are designed and voiced not in comparison to live music but to computer models, to machine measurements, or, blindly and entirely unscientifically, to each other.

Though Mr. Yamada’s electronics have helped make him famous, it was his phonostages that first put him on the map here in the States. I can remember hearing an early version of the Model 1200, about a decade ago, and being astonished by its unique presentation. This tube-powered phono preamp was not the last word in detail (since I heard it many improvements have been made), but it was indubitably the last word in soundstaging. To this day, I’ve not auditioned another stereo component of any kind that puts so much space between and among instruments.

I’ve used this example before, but it is still germane: Where every other phonostage of my experience seemingly “separates” the four players in a string quartet by inches, the Zanden Model 1200 separated them by feet. The first violin imaged a yard or so to the right of the second; the cello a yard to the left of the viola. Though this astonishing separation in space is not a realistic reflection of the way these four instruments “stage” in life—where a quartet seems more like a single, multi-armed thing than four separate ones—it is a very realistic reflection of the way a quartet sounds in life, in that each voice of the ensemble, each line of melody or countermelody, of harmony or counterpoint, is clearly audible.

On record, we often (or, at least, I often) have a problem distinguishing the first violin from the second (particularly when they are playing in the same register), the cello (in its upper register) from the viola (in its lower). In a recital hall this confusion never occurs. Of course, in life you can not only hear the distinct sonorities of their instruments you can also actually see the instrumentalists playing—see who is doing what and when. But short of being able to observe the players, the Zanden Model 1200 created something like the same effect by physically separating them (and the lines) they played with so much space (and air within that space) that each musical contribution remained distinct. On a piece of music like, oh, the Bartók Third or Fourth Quartet, where so much (and so much fresh and different) is happening at once or in close sequence, this kind of musical intelligibility is essential.

You might think that this sixth degree of separation would have an adverse effect on tuttis, but it doesn’t. It merely illuminates them, making the ensemble sonority that much sweeter because each instrument’s contribution is that much more sonorous, as it is in life.

In addition to its magical staging, the Zanden Model 1200 did one other thing better than any other phonostage I’d heard before: It made instruments sound three-dimensional. Now I’ve since heard tube (particularly single-ended-triode tube) amplifiers and a few tube preamplifiers that can do this same trick, but (save for ARC’s Reference Phono 10 and VAC’s Statement) no other phonostages can “round out” instruments the way the Zanden did, giving them not just density of tone but density of image.

Once again, this is something you always hear in life, because instruments—to use the well-worn but nonetheless apt phrase—radiate their energy like “pulsating spheres.” They don’t just project their sound toward you in a narrow arc, like a spotlight, which is the way they so often sound on records and always sound on digital media; they radiate it to their sides and their backs (albeit at different intensities depending on pitch), like a softly glowing bulb. This “nimbus” of sound combined with the more powerful central vector of projection gives them three-dimensional presence—what audiophiles often call body. As I just noted, I really haven’t heard any other electronics that reproduced lifelike body better than the Zanden 1200 phonostage. I mean you could almost get up from your chair and walk around the instruments it was reproducing, as if it were allowing you to perceive their sides and backs as well as their fronts.

 

All this is by way of preamble to what I’m going to say about the Zanden Model 120—the company’s least expensive (though scarcely inexpensive at $7500) phonostage. I wish I could tell you that it separates out instruments in an ensemble the way the Model 1200 did; it does not. But…it has more than a fair measure of its big brother’s sensational staging. I also wish I could tell you that it has all the three-dimensional body of the 1200. It does not, but, once again, it comes closer to that paragon than you might think. What it does do better than that long-ago version of the 1200 is reproduce details, such as texture (the way melody, rhythm, and harmony combine in a composition) and articulation (the manner in which a note is played), with very high resolution. It is also less warm and tubey than the Model 1200 of years past, with a more neutral and (to my ear) lifelike tonal balance, albeit at the cost of a small addition of grain (which is something that the utterly liquid 1200 had none of).

This last comment may clue you into the fundamental difference between the Models 120 and the 1200. The 120 uses a solid-state amplification stage, a departure from Zanden’s customary all-tube amplification circuits, although equalization (as is the case with the current benchmark Model 1200mk3) is implemented via an LCR network driven by two Jensen step-up transformers—arguably a superior way to apply phonostage eq. Also different is the Model 120’s size and build. Where the current 1200mk3 and its outboard power supply weigh 31 pounds, the 1200 and its petite outboard power supply are a mere 14 pounds. Most of this difference is the chassis, which in the 120 is an attractive combination of metal and a special, thick, opaque, sonically inert acryllic (also found in the Model 3100 preamp and Model 8120 amplifier) that gives the unit a more buoyant, contemporary look than the classic heavy-metal chassis of the 1200mk3.

Aside from the small losses I’ve noted vis-à-vis the Model 1200 in staging and imaging magic, and the small improvements I’ve also noted vis-à-vis the Model 1200 in neutrality of tonal balance and resolution, the Model 120 is all-Zanden, right down to the inclusion of five different eq curves (RIAA, Teldec, EMI, Columbia, Decca) to accommodate LPs from these different outfits. Along with FM Acoustics (which employs a different system for making hinge-point adjustments), Zanden is a pioneer when it comes to alternative eq settings. Although I (and other vinyl fans) have not found a shred of evidence to prove that different recording companies used different eq curves in the stereo era, there is no question that before the universal adoption of the RIAA curve (which is essentially the RCA Orthophonic curve) in about 1955, Columbia, Decca, EMI, etc. did employ different equalizations, which is why all those vintage preamps (such as the Marantz 7) came with a plethora of eq controls—and why those of you with an interest in older monophonic recordings should take heed.

Though I sat through a “before-and-after” demonstration of the Model 120’s eq adjustments, using select stereo LPs from Decca, Columbia, EMI, and others, to my ear all the various eq settings did was make everything sound like a quotidian RCA Red Seal. The customary dark, powerful, resonant sound of Decca and its central tree, the cool clarity and scintillant bite (all right, that bite can sometime break the skin) of Columbia and its half-a-zillion mikes, the compact, utterly transparent stage and beguilingly neutral-to-warmish timbre of EMI and its Blumlein setup were all leveled down to the staging, imaging, and timbre of a middling Shaded Dog.

Now it’s true that problem children (and Columbia, for instance, had a whole lot of them with its Bernstein/NYP orchestral discs—paradoxically not the case with most of its superb chamber music recordings and many of its Walter/Columbia Symphony offerings) can be made to better behave via Zanden’s eq options. And I can see where many listeners, particularly Bernstein fans, would prefer the smoother, more civil presentation of the “Columbia” setting. Whether this fix reflects what is actually on the eq’d work parts, or whether some admittedly wrinkly virtues are also being steamed out on the Zanden ironing board, may not matter to them, given that overall listenability is improved. I have no problem with this—or with anything else that listeners do to “sweeten” the sound of favorite recordings. Zanden (and many others at this point) give you reliable tools to accomplish such changes.

These controversies notwithstanding, the Model 120 is a superb phono preamplifier that does almost everything its big brother did, albeit not to quite the same degree, and that improves on timbre and detail (at least in comparison with the early version of the Model 1200 I listened to back when). It will still separate the four voices of a string quartet (or the multitudinous voices of an orchestra or large choir) in a way that makes every musical line and contribution unmistakably clear; it will still add a modicum of body to instruments and vocalists, though not to the “walk-around” extent of the Model 1200; it will still sound warm, beautiful, and realistic on warm, beautiful, and realistic recordings; and it is now as finely detailed and musically articulate as anything I’ve heard short of a Constellation Perseus, a VAC Statement, an ARC Reference Phono 10, or an Audio Consulting Silver Rock, all of which cost five to ten times more than what the Model 120 does. Yes, there is a slight bit of fine solid-state grain in its resumé—kind of like the luminance noise you see in an 800 ISO photograph at 200% magnification—but unless you’re really looking really hard for such a thing, trust me, it’s not going to matter. This is a wonderful piece of equipment, beautifully engineered and just plain beautiful sounding.

SPECS & PRICING

EQ curve positions: RIAA, Teldec, EMI, Columbia, Decca
Inputs: Two moving-coil cartridge
Input impedance: Low, 36 ohms; high, 470 ohms
Output impedance: 50 ohms
EQ curve deviation: +/-0.5dB (20Hz–20kHz)
Gain: Low mc, 75dB; high mc, 63dB (1kHz, RIAA)
Dimensions: 360mm x 70mm x 370mm (power supply, 78mm x 58mm x 168mm)
Weight: 5.4 kg (power supply, 1.0 kg)

ZANDEN AUDIO NORTH AMERICA
Contact: Eric Pheils
eric@zanden-usa.com
zanden-usa.com

Loudspeakers: Magico M Project, Raidho D-5, Raidho D-1, Avantgarde Zero 1, MartinLogan CLX, Magnepan .7, Magnepan 1.7, Magnepan 3.7, Magnepan 20.7, JL Audio Gotham subs
Linestage preamps: VAC Statement Line, Soulution 725, Audio Research Reference 10, Siltech SAGA System C1, Zanden 3100
Phonostage preamps: VAC Statement Phono, Audio Research Corporation Reference Phono 10, Constellation Audio Perseus, Innovative Cohesion Engineering Raptor, Soulution 725, Zanden 120, Audio Consulting Silver Rock Toroidal
Power amplifiers: VAC Statement 450iQ, Soulution 711, Siltech SAGA System V1/P1, Lamm ML2.2, Zanden 8120, Odyssey Audio Stratos
Analog source: Walker Audio Proscenium Black Diamond Mk V, TW Acustic Black Knight, AMG Viella 12, Acoustic Signature Invictus
Tape deck: United Home Audio UHA-Q Phase 12 OPS
Phono cartridges: Clearaudio Goldfinger Statement, Air Tight Opus, Ortofon MC Anna, Ortofon MC A90, Benz LP S-MR
Digital source: Berkeley Alpha DAC 2
Cable and interconnect: Crystal Cable Absolute Dream, Synergistic Research Galileo LE, Ansuz Acoustics Diamond
Power Cords: Crystal Cable Absolute Dream, Synergistic Research Galileo LE, Ansuz Acoustics Diamond
Power Conditioner: Synergistic Research Galileo LE, Technical Brain
Accessories: Synergistic ART and HFT/FEQ system, Shakti Hallographs (6), Zanden room treatment, A/V Room Services Metu panels and traps, ASC Tube Traps, Critical Mass MAXXUM equipment and amp stands, Symposium Isis and Ultra equipment platforms, Symposium Rollerblocks and Fat Padz, Walker Prologue Reference equipment and amp stands, Walker Valid Points and Resonance Control discs, Clearaudio Double Matrix SE record cleaner, Synergistic Research RED Quantum fuses, HiFi-Tuning silver/gold fuses

Jonathan Valin

By Jonathan Valin

I’ve been a creative writer for most of life. Throughout the 80s and 90s, I wrote eleven novels and many stories—some of which were nominated for (and won) prizes, one of which was made into a not-very-good movie by Paramount, and all of which are still available hardbound and via download on Amazon. At the same time I taught creative writing at a couple of universities and worked brief stints in Hollywood. It looked as if teaching and writing more novels, stories, reviews, and scripts was going to be my life. Then HP called me up out of the blue, and everything changed. I’ve told this story several times, but it’s worth repeating because the second half of my life hinged on it. I’d been an audiophile since I was in my mid-teens, and did all the things a young audiophile did back then, buying what I could afford (mainly on the used market), hanging with audiophile friends almost exclusively, and poring over J. Gordon Holt’s Stereophile and Harry Pearson’s Absolute Sound. Come the early 90s, I took a year and a half off from writing my next novel and, music lover that I was, researched and wrote a book (now out of print) about my favorite classical records on the RCA label. Somehow Harry found out about that book (The RCA Bible), got my phone number (which was unlisted, so to this day I don’t know how he unearthed it), and called. Since I’d been reading him since I was a kid, I was shocked. “I feel like I’m talking to God,” I told him. “No,” said he, in that deep rumbling voice of his, “God is talking to you.” I laughed, of course. But in a way it worked out to be true, since from almost that moment forward I’ve devoted my life to writing about audio and music—first for Harry at TAS, then for Fi (the magazine I founded alongside Wayne Garcia), and in the new millennium at TAS again, when HP hired me back after Fi folded. It’s been an odd and, for the most part, serendipitous career, in which things have simply come my way, like Harry’s phone call, without me planning for them. For better and worse I’ve just gone with them on instinct and my talent to spin words, which is as close to being musical as I come.

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