Delivery occurred on a single pallet. Both tower boxes sat cheek to cheek tightly shrink-wrapped, the monitors' single box atop secured with more black shrink. Being single not dual or triple cardboard, the bigger boxes do prefer such palletized transport as they'd otherwise be a bit vulnerable to shipper abuse. Clearly marked as to where to open them, the speakers were floating in hard-foam inserts on either end, with the cloth grills held in front of them in their own inserts.


Unpacking was a cinch and definitely just a one-man job.



Here we see the monitors face up to show off their clever grill technique.


Living above the clouds means fog on an overcast winter day. Thus my temporary tower of power had to fight against potent glare which dominated our views just then. Still, you appreciate that the monitor's foot print is marginally smaller than the tower's; that both come with biwire terminals; and that both sport rather sizeable ports. I've never understood what's wrong with Mickey Mouse when his name gets used to indicate the status of something but - Gediminas' chosen terminals are of his sort. The cap threads are super funky as I discovered quickly when trying to remove the metal bridging straps. Go bananas to bypass screwing around and never look back.


In the twin-textured flesh—gloss sides, pebbled rest—these Overtures did look unexpectedly posh and d├ęcor friendly. Gediminas' clever cost-slashing methods whilst driving up quality really did the business. What's more, the upscale 'rippled' black finish he put on the monitors reminded me of Jeff Rowland's signature face plates, just without the metallic gloss and associated depth. Even the full-color glossy Overture range brochure said class and attention to detail. Respect!