This review page is supported in part by the sponsors whose ad banners are displayed below

Somewhat reassuring comments from Klaus and other owners were to the effect that you’ll know when it’s ready for prime time. But it will take a while. Users reported three or four months, some even longer. The long break-in process was reported to be akin to watching teenagers grow up and, possibly, maturing. My own recommendation to an audio friend who just took delivery of three Kismets for a home theater setup was to put on the Reference Recordings conditioning track, turn it up to quick broil and go on an extended vacation. Despite these gyrations, even the fresh-out-of-the-box midrange had an obvious clarity, refinement and naturalness that encouraged me to believe better overall sound would be coming. Eventually.


Evolution of the sound:  After roughly 90 days with the amps on all the time combined with dozens of hours of neighbor-irritating conditioning tracks, one finally arrives at the final sonic frontier - or perhaps plateau would be more appropriate. Everything lined up and was coherent from the deepest bass to the highest treble. The Kismets were ready for some serious listening.


To preface the listening comments, let me explain that my likes in audio revolve around gear that as much as possible sounds as if it simply isn’t there. It doesn’t matter what some component costs but if it introduces compression of the dynamic range or constricts the soundstage, my interest quickly wanes. Products offering especially high value are always interesting. In my experience sometimes even inexpensive components—especially electronics—are absolutely better than significantly more costly offerings in the same category. In this regard the Odyssey Kismets are the least expensive major component in my main listening room.


In terms of priorities, overall neutrality—meaning lack of coloration—is high on my list followed by freedom from grain, wide dynamics and pictorial soundstaging. We all know realism takes a major hit the moment pressure waves first reach the microphone but despite this inherent limitation, a balanced combination of sonic virtues in an amplifier goes a long ways towards conveying the essential elements of music rather than a mere simulacrum of the real thing. And for long-term satisfaction all these virtues need to be harmonized. Terrific soundstaging accompanied by an edgy or dynamically restrained or unduly colored presentation is a package that quickly becomes tiresome.
Dynamics: Dynamic range, resolution and speed are critical for the convincing display of both gross and subtle musical qualities. The Kismets are fast—very fast—and can convey both slam and feathery susurrations even simultaneously if the music so orders. My initial encounter with the Reference Recordings Britten’s Orchestra [HR-120 HRx] played through the Wilson Sashas was revelatory. Rather than the music jumping out from a black, white or gray background, it appeared against what seemed to be no background at all. Starting from zero has many benefits dynamically and after all, air doesn’t have much color although in a recording studio or hall it certainly seems charged with an excitement that stays long after a performance is over.

The noise level on this high-resolution 176.4kHz/24-bit recording was also vanishingly low to my ear and the Kismets apparently add nothing to the natural rich anticipatory silence. The first cut, Benjamin Britten’s Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra—adapting an old Henry Purcell theme—proceeded to entrance me over what seemed like half an hour but glancing up, to my surprise only four minutes had elapsed. It was that engrossing perhaps because the overall sound and presentation was such a departure from the usual audiophile fare. The sparkle, finely graded dynamics and interplay of the instruments with the acoustic space of the stage and hall were outstanding. Well done Reference Recordings.


Somewhat lesser known is Britten’s musical political statement (he was a pacifist during the Second World War), the 1940 Sinfonia da requiem commissioned for the 2,600th anniversary of the founding of the Japanese Empire. It was ultimately rejected by the Japanese government, which given the sentiments of war-time England was perhaps for the better. This piece features notes on a bass drum that have the transients and action of a shipping container dropping onto a concrete floor. The ability of the Kismets and the recording to start and stop so quickly in the context of such extremes of sound pressure was remarkable.


Another rather powerful but entirely natural musical experience comes from the Norwegian label 2L and their high-resolution 24/192 Mirror Canon album, which features piano music of Beethoven, Schönberg, Webern and Berg. Tor Espen Aspaas energizes the enormous 2.74m/8.1ft and 480kg/1,056lb Steinway D-274 constructed in their Hamburg plant and voiced specially for the recording venue with a dramatic taut rendition of the Beethoven Sonata Nr. 32 in c-moll.

Some parts of the performance spun allusions in my mind to the severe otherworldly Hardangerjøkulen region of central Norway (appropriately the filming location for the ice planet Hoth in The Empire Strikes Back).


The Kismets were also quite happy powering Usher Be-718s even given their much lower sensitivity and within the Usher’s range easily demonstrated many virtues such as accurately rendering fine gradations of the female and male voice. The slightly erratic quavering of a performer slowly trailing away from a long-held note and those small embellishments that convey emotional emphasis were readily discerned. Jazz, classical ensembles and choral works are all delightful through the Ushers especially with their new diamond tweeters.

Transparency: The Kismets offer excellent fidelity to the source and to the music therein. Transparency is a wonderful thing. Of course in some cases this is a mixed blessing in that the strengths and weaknesses of a performance, the recording techniques and production values employed all become readily apparent.


Within a given album one quickly appreciates that some cuts are more equal than others. The recording venue changes; the arrangement of performers requires changes to a microphone setup; ensemble playing is a bit ragged or the percussionist seems to be in a slightly different time zone from the rest of the band. On familiar tunes there’s a previously unheard gentle tapping of the foot or a jazz bassist’s sotto voce humming. You’ll hear all of this. And you’ll also hear creaks and whirs of ventilation, the inevitable dropping of objects as well as becoming way too familiar with the laboured breathing of some performers.

Of course apart from such eccentricities the complexity and textural richness of music comes to the fore. James Taylor’s Hourglass—one of his and Grammy-winning recording engineer and producer Frank Filipetti’s best efforts—brings out many captivating examples. In addition to strong bass lines and percussive effects, Hourglass is primarily a showcase for voices and acoustic guitar, both in this case exemplars of midrange fidelity. Alongside Taylor’s distinctive voice, there’s constant interplay with backing vocalists that adds to the experience. These talented collaborators—there seem to be three or four depending on the track—are precisely synched to Taylor’s expressions, subtly adding balance and nuance to a stellar performance.


And instruments sound the way they should for a given venue. For example, compared with the rather serious Steinway in the 2L Mirror Canon recording, the piano that Marian McPartland plays in Concord Music’s 85 Candles: Live in New York is brilliant, radiant, colorful and rather playful. In both cases the rendering by the Kismets is highly accurate and reflects the atmosphere on one hand of a rambunctious birthday party in the Birdland jazz club while on the other reproduces the austere, silent and thoughtful setting of a 19th-century church.


In the latter case the huge concert grand German Steinway is captured by two DPA 4003 omnidirectional microphones about 50cm apart and just 1m away from the lid. That’s it. Yes the image is large which from that perspective it should be but more importantly it isn’t bloated in any way and instead sharply focused. One becomes familiar in this and other piano recordings with the coruscating radiation patterns of struck string harmonics bouncing off the lid; as well as the companion sympathetic vibrations of the non-speaking strings. It’s easy to get a feel for the varied resonances within this complex and versatile instrument. With the best classical recordings one can experience the gentle rush of air through organ pipes, the tremolo of voices within a chorus and the complex reverberations of acoustical spaces which become yet another 'performer'.


The treble is extended and sweet. On good recordings there’s very little evidence of any grain or dryness introduced by the amplifiers. Cymbals sound like rather small gongs as they should, with a strongly metallic character to them. It’s easy to visualize them wobbling and turning. Speaking of cymbals, the Reference Recordings Jazz Etc.: First Sampling contains several fascinating tunes where "Tropic Affair" features an abstract effect suggestive of gentle rain. Whatever the instrument actually is, it sounds like a collection of tiny cymbals floating in space which emit little pin-point bursts of metallic richness rather than fuzzy spots of white noise as well they might on lesser gear.
Enlarge!