THE GENRE GAP

The 1987 Summer Consumer Electronics Show in Chicago will be history by the time you read this. As usual, thousands of audio/video dealers will have trudged through the endless aisles of the main exhibit hall, cavernous McCormick Place, to view the glittering new components produced by hundreds of manufacturers. For the most part. the products on display in McCormick Place are mass-market oriented, designed to sell at price points palatable to the average consumer. Generally, the music which these manufacturers play to demonstrate their products is of the pop/rock variety.

In marked contrast to this scene is the activity at the Americana Congress Hotel, where a much smaller group of dealers will have auditioned the newest state-of-the-art audio components from high-end manufacturers. In this milieu, most manufacturers use classical music to emphasize the performance capabilities of their pedigreed products.

One might well ponder why this situation exists. Does the preponderance of classical music it demonstrating high-priced, high-end audio equipment connote some sort of music snobbery or elitism? Most likely there are experts who would have us consider sociological, environmental, economic, and cultural factors. However, I don't think the makers of high-end equipment harbor any sinister motives, nor do I believe any attempt is being made on their part to denigrate the average consumer's musical tastes.

Quite simply, high -quality recordings of classical music have historically been the programs of choice for evaluating progress in audio technology.

Why classical music predominates in the demonstration of high-end audio equipment is easier to understand by considering state-of-the-art recording technology in pop and classical music.

First off, let me say that I have the highest regard for some of the brilliant engineers who are masters of the art of recording pop music. They create marvelous and even astonishing sounds.

But the keyword is "create," for most of their recordings are cleverly contrived, made in a totally controllable studio environment, and they have no existence in real time! The typical pop/rock recording has a lead vocalist, accompanying vocal group, guitars, electric bass. synthesizers, drum set and assorted other percussion, and possibly some brass and reed instruments, plus an acoustic or electric piano--all acoustically isolated from each other. As many as 60 or more microphones of various types may be used in a recording: some engineers use as many as 17 mikes on the drum set alone to capture its proper impact and tonal nuances and characteristics. (Incidentally, even in a studio with conscientious personnel, the chance that all microphones will have the same polarity is pretty slim; this explains why people who own preamps with polarity-reversal switches are so often frustrated when they attempt to perceive sonic differences between the two switch positions. The same thing holds true, of course, for multi-miked classical recordings.) Typically, all these mikes are fed into a huge, multi-input/output mixing con sole that has myriad faders, knobs, and switches. Very often, two 24- to 32-track analog or digital recorders will be interlinked to accept a greater multiplicity of microphones.

The engineer may have at his disposal up to six acoustic echo chambers, plus another half-dozen channels of digital reverberation. All these permit him to employ selective reverberation for the various instruments and vocals, as well as control the nature and character and time period of the reverb. In his console, the engineer has a vast armamentarium of controls, al lowing him to process and manipulate and tailor the sound and to create special effects. At his fingertips he has graphic and parametric equalizers, devices for phasing and flanging effects, overdubbing facilities, and a great deal more.

The very highest quality pop/rock recordings can offer exciting-even spectacular-and most certainly entertaining sound. In terms of sound for the sheer sake of sound, some pop recordings are awesome in their complexity and in their impact. Despite the fact that a loudspeaker may reproduce the full frequency response of a pop recording, and handle its dynamic range and cleanly present its spiky transients, nonetheless I feel most pop recordings are of limited value in testing loudspeakers. Since most pop recordings do not exist in real time, the ear/brain combination has no point of reference; the recorded sound of a given group will be considerably different from how it sounds in a nightclub or at a concert. Shorn of most of its acoustic and electronic processing and trickery, the live music cannot be referenced to the recording. Obviously, it is for this reason that pop recordings have limitations if used for evaluating loudspeakers. (Just as obviously, judging from the fact that pop and rock account for 95% of the total record market, these limitations are of little concern to most listeners; for them, the music and the melody matter most.) While most pop recordings are made under controlled studio conditions, this is rarely the case with classical recordings. Small-scale and chamber-music recordings may be made in studios, but large-scale symphonic works, operas, oratorios, etc. are al most always recorded on location in concert halls or in other large acoustic spaces such as churches, ballrooms, and multi-purpose municipal halls like Walthamstow or Watford in suburban London. It is true that a number of classical-record companies utilize multi-mike, multi-track digital recording techniques and a certain amount of equalization. But more and more are using simpler M/S, Blumlein, ORTF, and spaced-array mike techniques, and for the most part they are using very little equalization. A few companies, like Telarc, use no equalization, compression, or limiting whatsoever (as was my own practice with Everest and Crystal Clear recordings).

A well-recorded classical work, made with "purist" minimal mike techniques, is an invaluable aid in loud speaker evaluation: It strives to repro duce the live, real-time listening experience, unsullied by any kind of electronic processing or manipulation. A delay system would help to heighten the illusion of being in a concert hall, but the important thing is that the ear/ brain has a point of reference, and this can help one assess the accuracy of loudspeaker reproduction.

Although there may be less processing involved in a classical music re cording, the totally trouble-free session is a rare bird indeed! Quite often, the challenges of recording a symphony orchestra in certain halls are hugely formidable. Of course, the worst situation is when you are going to record in a hall you've never been in, and have no knowledge of its acoustics. Classical recording sessions can be very frustrating and off-putting, and I have had my share of them! Some years ago, I was recording in London. A fairly large Ford van was rigged to transport all of the tape recorders, mikes, booms, cables, amplifiers, monitor speakers, etc. This van accompanied me on the S.S. United States to Southampton, England. After clearing Customs, I continued on to the Walthamstow Assembly Hall, where I spent several weeks recording the London Symphony and London Phil harmonic orchestras. I then had a free week for R and R, before going on to Paris to record the Lamoureux Orchestra, conducted by temperamental Igor Markevitch.

So there I was in mid-December, enjoying the view of the blue Mediterranean from a hotel room in Monte Carlo, when the phone rang. I was informed that a terrible accident had occurred with the recording van. It seems the van had been ferried across the English Channel to Calais, where the in- imitable French bureaucracy asserted itself. The officials insisted that a French driver deliver the van to Paris.

Now, the van was equipped with a standard miles-per-hour speedometer, but apparently the driver assumed it was marked in kilometers. When the driver thought he was doing a relatively safe 60 kilometers per hour, he was really doing 60 miles per hour (about 100 kilometers per hour). The roads were icy, and the van skidded off the road and turned over. The poor driver suffered a concussion and lost his right arm. The van was torn open by the impact, and a large amount of recording gear was battered and scattered all over a field.

The equipment was put onto a truck and delivered to the Salle Pleyel, my recording venue in Paris. I arrived at the hall to find my trusty technician Ted Gosman feverishly trying to sort things out, repair what was broken, and do a lot of testing. Miraculously, although the cases for the special three -channel Ampexes were cracked and some of the recording amplifiers had several bent corners, they still worked. The KLH monitor speakers were splintered and their grilles were torn, but they too worked! We had a few bent mike booms, and a test oscillator was totally out of commission. But we could record!

The next day, recording sessions were to begin at 9 a.m., but the first cellist wandered in almost an hour late and dismissed his tardiness with a typical Gallic shrug of his shoulders.

We were recording several large-scale choral works of Lili Boulanger, de ceased sister of the redoubtable Nadia Boulanger, the famous teacher and mentor of Aaron Copland, Leonard Bernstein, and many other American composers and conductors. Nadia, who was then in her seventies, attended the sessions. A rather prim, no nonsense lady, she just lifted a quizzical eyebrow when she saw the battered recording equipment, but she was all smiles when she heard the thrilling playback of her sister's "Descent into the Abyss."

Ironically, after all the trouble with the accident and assorted other problems, that recording of the Lili Boulanger works won the Grand Prix du Disque of the Academie Frangaise!

(adapted from Audio magazine, Aug. 1987; Bert Whyte)

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