"Every
audio product reflects the priorities and sensibilities of the person
or persons who designed it, but the Tidal Sunray takes this axiom
a step further. These speakers actually mirror the physical stature
of their maker, the 6' 8" hands-on CEO of Tidal, Jörn Janczak. The
Sunrays are tall and not overly wide, the power forward of loudspeakers.
They reach for the sky, possibly one inspiration for the name Sunray,
but their faceted front along with the deep luster of their finish
and chrome accents give them a svelte loveliness that quickly turns
to intrigue as you begin to examine them. They are what you think
they are: three separate cabinets stacked one atop another comprising
a highly original three-way speaker.
In a certain sense, the Sunray is a large minimonitor -- a maximonitor,
if you will -- with bass modules above and below. "With this configuration,"
says Jörn Janczak, "I have only advantages." These include splitting
the cabinet into "three small problems instead of one big one in terms
of vibration control, energy-storage effects, etc."
That maximonitor covers 60Hz and above, with the bass modules housing
woofers mounted on the sides and opposing each other. Jörn's rationale
for this unusual handling of the bass is multi-faceted.
First, with four woofers arrayed in this way, "the bass is being reproduced
in a circle around the acoustical center" of the speaker. This means
that "bass shoots out of the middle, from where the mids and highs
are coming" and "the bass and midrange are time-aligned in the step
response."
Second, eight woofers means that "bass modes are generated at eight
points in the room for a more even frequency response with fewer peaks
and reflections."
Third, mounting the woofers opposite to each other cancels their forces
on the cabinet walls. Finally, each woofer actually carries a quarter
of the bass load and therefore produces only a quarter of the excursion,
so they each also produce a quarter of the distortion, thus working
comfortably within their capabilities. "Since it is four woofers moving
each a quarter in and out," Jörn explained, "we have full 1:1 bass
again."
The Sunray's middle section is crammed with high-tech drivers and
especially high-zoot crossover parts. The drivers all come from Accuton.
The 7" midranges and 9" woofers have ceramic cones, giving them, according
to Jörn, "tremendous advantages."
However, he also admits that these ceramic drivers "do have a hard
cone break up and resonances," making them a challenge to use properly.
As I can attest from my earlier audition of the Tidal Contriva Diacera
SE, Jörn seems to have harnessed the capabilities of these drivers
and ameliorated their potential issues.
Unfailingly, speakers with ceramic drivers have a tightness to their
sound that constricts the music's natural flow, but not the Tidal
speakers, which are devoid of this coloration. The Sunray's 1 1/4"
diamond-dome tweeter also comes from Accuton, and it is the largest
and most expensive tweeter the company makes. As I'll comment later
on, Jörn also seems to have gotten the most out of this very esoteric
driver.
Things get even wilder in the crossover, where Jörn uses the most
expensive passive parts available today: Dueland silver-foil capacitors
and coils. The Sunrays are reportedly the only speakers currently
made that use these parts. Some of the caps are as big in diameter
as the speaker's midrange drivers, and they, along with the pure-silver
coils (not to mention the diamond-dome tweeter), are responsible for
the substantial price of the speakers.
There are, in fact, more than twelve pounds of silver in a pair of
Sunrays, all of it located in these caps and coils. At $35 per ounce,
that's almost $7000 in pure silver in each pair of Sunrays. However,
even $7000 won't buy just one of the silver caps.
Jörn hasn't chosen these parts because of their eye-popping cost or
perceived bling. He feels that they are the most transparent passive
parts available, thus helping him achieve his goal: "to hear the speaker
-- not." Actually, Jörn expresses this most often in another way,
calling the Sunray "a glass of water." Translation: a speaker that
doesn't sound like a speaker.
Except for the aluminum bottom plates of each module, the Sunray's
cabinet is made completely from HD-MDF, a medium-density fiberboard
that's created under high pressure. Fashioned of multiple pieces of
this material with adhesive in between, the cabinet walls are nearly
4" thick, as is the front baffle of the middle module, and there's
extensive bracing as well. The gorgeous piano-black finish (wood veneers
are an option) is applied in a dozen coats, building up a surface
that's nearly 1/8" thick and sealing the cabinet for good measure.
Still, in these days of speaker cabinets made of high-tech composite
materials and aircraft-grade aluminum, the Sunray seems basic, even
plain -- "the world's most boring speaker," as Jörn also refers to
it. Yet, he is no fan of aluminum as a cabinet material. It "has a
very high resonance" and "rings like a bell." "HP-MDF is still the
material that has the best resonance absorption," Jörn concludes,
adding, "we build speakers, not airplanes." Hard to argue with that.
Erecting the towers
Jörn and
his assistant Felix, another tall, lean German, set up the Sunrays
in my large listening room. The speakers come packed in a pair of
foam-lined, metal-reinforced flight cases, and while it's possible
(although backbreaking) for one person to unpack the speakers, putting
them together is a two-person job. The modules, which each weigh in
excess of a hundred pounds, are stacked, fitting into recessed inserts
on the top of the cabinet below.
To effect this maneuver, Tidal includes a pair of special suction-cupped
"grabbers" similar to what people who install plate-glass windows
use. These affix to the sides of each module without marring the finish,
providing handholds that make the grunt work easier. When it comes
to hoisting the top module into place, having Jörn's height is a definite
asset.
The modules are strapped together with gold-plated copper bars that
double as jumpers. The binding posts along with other connectors reside
on the rear of the center module and feature plastic caps that are
easy to torque by hand to extreme tightness. Tidal is unusual in that
it manufactures electronics as well as speakers. Perhaps for this
reason, the Sunray can be configured a number of ways, including with
its active external crossover and extra channels of amplification.
The crossover isn't necessary for using the speakers, but it comes
with them nonetheless.
I reviewed the Sunrays in their most basic configuration: connected
directly to the amplifiers, which powered them full-range. In this
regard, both Lamm M1.2 Reference hybrid and Atma-Sphere MA-2 Mk 3.1
OTL monoblocks drove the speakers more than admirably. Jörn commented
on how good the Sunrays sounded with the Lamm amps, but I preferred
the Atma-Sphere monoblocks, their remarkably transparent midrange
making for a truly memorable speaker-amp combination.
I also used the Sunrays with Lamm ML2.2 monoblocks, the latest version
of Vladimir Lamm's 6C33C-based single-ended amps. These monoblocks
can surprise with their ability to power speakers that seem wrong
for their mere 18 watts. The Sunrays, in fact, were unsuited for the
ML2.2s, sounding tonally voluptuous but dynamically stunted. Jörn
keeps the sensitivity of his speakers to himself, but if I had to
guess, I'd say the sensitivity of the Sunrays is around 88dB -- too
modest for the SET Lamms.
To position the speakers, Jörn eyeballed their general positions in
the room and then used a laser measurer to set the exact distance
from the listening seat to the front of the cabinet, bouncing the
beam off one of the midranges. For toe-in, he used the sides of the
cabinets as a guide, explaining that seeing an angled swath about
three inches wide from the listening seat was ideal for my room. He
and Felix swiveled each speaker, eyeballing the results to ensure
that those three inches showed from the listening seat.
Within 90 minutes, the speakers were unpacked, assembled and placed
within the room. However, the setup was not sonically optimized; as
Jörn explained, "we know reviewers like to find out for themselves."
It was no surprise, then, that initial listening proved unsatisfying.
The soundstage was locked in between the speakers, nary an instrument
or singer venturing beyond the inside boundaries of the two tall,
dark sentinels. Luckily the speakers do not rest on spikes.
Instead, they are bolted to heavy chrome bars into which some unique
isolating footers screw. These have flat bottoms that allow for the
speakers to be moved -- provided you use a judicious amount of tugging
and pushing. Jerk the speakers too violently and you might be watching
in horror as they slowly tumble over -- possibly on top of you. What
I did was get on my hands and knees and pull near the footers as daintily
as I could. This would move each speaker a fraction of an inch without
causing catastrophe.
It's important to do this within the first day or so after setup,
because once the speakers settle, the footers sink into the carpet
and pad (if you have them, of course) and movement is pretty much
impossible.
I ended up with the Sunrays spaced farther apart than Jörn and Felix
had placed them, and toed out more as well. Three inches of cabinet
were reduced to two (or so), and the soundstage stretched laterally,
providing greater depth behind each speaker as well.
This put the speakers roughly where my Wilson MAXX 3s had sat, and
where a number of other speakers sat after them: 48" from the front
wall and 53" to the side walls. From the listening seat, the Sunrays
didn't look as large as they are, their width being less than half
their depth. They are actually very attractive, due to their proportions,
deeply mirrored finish and subtle chrome accents.
As with the Contriva Diacera SEs, there are ways of tailoring the
Sunrays to the room in which they will be used -- or listener preference.
The first is what Tidal calls "the Varioterminal" system, which changes
the speaker's low-pass filter in frequency and gain, allowing the
woofer output to be adjusted to one of three settings: "Flat," "Gain
A" or "Gain B." The latter two increase bass output for those rooms
(and customers) that require it.
Tidal's "Aerotune System" involves the pair of ports in each bass
module. Tidal provides nicely made foam stoppers for plugging one
or two of them. This has the effect of either providing flat bass
(with two ports plugged) or creating a 3dB rise beginning around 30Hz
(no ports plugged). This works in conjunction with the Varioterminal
setting; neither overrides the other. The final feature has no specific
name. It entails removing a jumper to introduce a 2dB dip in the speaker's
treble. Installing the jumper adds the 2dB back.
The difference that the port plugs and jumpers effect was clearly
audible. In my room, plugging neither port and installing the jumpers
came closest to fulfilling the expectations that such large speakers
create in terms of bass output and treble sparkle. The sound was more
exciting, even if it wasn't as spectrally balanced as the configuration
I settled on: one port plugged and no jumper. I'm sure Jörn would
say that there's no right or wrong way to use these features, and
I would agree with him. In terms of the Varioterminal setting, "Gain
A," the middle setting, was deemed correct for my room, and I never
changed it.
Sun kissed
I've already
mentioned the "ceramic constriction" that Tidal speakers somehow avoid.
With the Sunrays, what's missing in this regard goes a long way toward
defining their sonic character. They track the signal with a natural
suppleness that's carefully counterbalanced with quickness into and
out of each note.
This gives transients a purity and completeness that worked equally
well with all kinds of music, a feat matched by precious few speakers.
I could have ended the previous sentence with "at any price," but
the "completeness" the Sunrays achieve is frankly what listeners expect
from speakers of their considerable cost.
In my review of the Ayre DX-5, I compared well-known recordings in
different formats -- CD, SACD, DVD, everything I had on hand except
analog, which would have made no sense in the context of the review.
However, that doesn't mean I didn't make the digital-analog comparison
as well.
I actually had 45rpm test pressings of Getz/Gilberto [Verve/Analogue
Productions AVRJ 8545-45] and Oscar Peterson's We Get Requests [Verve/Analogue
Productions AVRJ 8606-45], a pair of well-recorded jazz albums that
have become workhorses of the audiophile catalog. I discussed both
in the DX-5 review, and adding the LPs to the digital mix was fascinating,
proving both how good digital can sound and in what areas the very
best LPs remain supreme.
The Sunrays were central in parsing the differences, not only between
the digital formats but especially between digital and analog. Perhaps
it's no surprise that the least-compelling version of Getz/Gilberto
was the first SACD of the title [Verve 589595], with the latest digital
version I own, the SHM SACD, being easily the most spectrally balanced.
However, the LP crushed them both in terms of inner detail -- the
small sonic touches that give texture, air and verisimilitude to instruments,
taking us into recordings -- and the ratio of ease to sheer resolution
that is at the heart of a convincing presentation, at least for me.
It was with the LP that the Sunrays did their best work, mining all
manner of minute detail without aggression, revealing without highlighting.
Perhaps this is what Jörn meant when he called the Sunrays "boring,"
but it was also responsible for the way these speakers convince --
and seduce.
There were truly special qualities to the Sunray's treble and midrange,
at least for those of us who value a natural, unhyped portrayal with
lavish detail. There is much to praise about the Sunray's diamond
tweeter, which seems to meld the characters of so many other tweeters:
the steeliness of an aluminum dome, the suave texture and utter lack
of hardness and glare of a silk dome, and the fleet airiness of a
ribbon.
The intensity of these things changed with each recording, proving
that the treble region reported instead of editorialized. The same
was true of the midrange, but with an interesting twist.
There was physicality and roundness to singers, which can be the sign
of some tonal darkness, yet the Sunray's midrange always sounded light
and sprightly. It deftly balanced presence and transient agility,
ultimately sounding faithful to both the recording and the music's
intent.
Once I discovered this, I paired the Sunrays with the amps that are
the transparency champs: the Atma-Sphere MA-2 Mk 3.1 monoblocks. I
was delighted, and not at all surprised, by the outcome. The combination
was stunningly immediate -- neutral and detailed for sure, but also
unfettered spatially and dynamically.
Voices, strings, horns -- everything -- leaped from the speakers without
the exaggerated edge that can give the illusion -- and nothing more
-- of speed. Another digital format I explored in the context of my
Ayre DX-5 review was Blu-ray Disc, for which there isn't a deep musical
catalog at this point in time. Still, there are some impressive recordings
available. I mentioned Andreas Fliflet's Mira [Jienat JNCD002] in
my Ayre review, a Blu-ray-and-SACD package that includes some of the
most boundary-bending music I've ever heard.
From beginning to end, Mira was huge and resounding, impactful drums
and lilting voices emerging from blackness, then retreating just as
quickly -- a true sonic spectacular that enlivened my musical life.
Even with this very challenging music -- challenging to make for sure,
and challenging to reproduce as well -- the Sunrays simply laid it
out with all its scale and dynamic alacrity intact.
But more significant again was the poise and control the big speakers
displayed, both disappearing into the soundscape they created and
conjuring powerfully real images right in the listening room.
In fact, the perspective the Sunrays presented seemed to be an outgrowth
of their stature and configuration: large floorstanding speakers with
the heart of finely wrought minimonitors. Physically, of course, this
is accurate, but the combination was most telling sonically, the speakers
transforming with the music.
The various Wilson Audio speakers do the same thing, with the larger
models like the MAXX 3 and Alexandria X-2 Series 2, displaying the
greatest spatial duality, because they are both very large and, when
set up to Wilson's standards, disappear as the sources of the music.
This is true of the Sunrays as well, even though their overall character
is rather different from that of the Wilson speakers.
If the Sunrays possess any overt tendencies, they lean to the forgiving
side of the continuum and don't possess the ultimate in terms of bass
weight, power and bloom, emphasizing quick pacing and agility amidst
depth that certainly extends into the 20Hz range.
The bass is the Sunray's most intriguing and possibly enigmatic distinguishing
mark, given the unusual implementation of its four woofers. Is it
more or less indicative of what's captured on each recording? While
there was no question that the Sunrays earned the "full range" title,
they didn't immediately wow with their low frequencies, as their sheer
size suggested they might.
The bass still conveyed a measure of the ambience that is required
to portray large soundscapes well, and there was nothing insubstantial
about it, the throbbing low frequencies from Harry Connick's She [Columbia
64376], a personal bass-workout favorite, sounding, well, throbbing
and low. It's worth noting, however, that Tidal makes a pair of subwoofers,
the matching T1 towers, for use with the Sunrays and their included
crossover. Whether they are considered necessary will depend on your
desires and bank account.
Bigger than a breadbox but not a Sunray
Speaking
of Wilson Audio, after the Sunrays departed I finally had the opportunity
to listen with my reference speakers again. When Paul Bolin and I
launched The Audio Beat in late 2009, I had lined up a few speakers
to write about.
This meant that my MAXX 3s ($69,500/pair) were put on their casters
and wheeled out of the listening room. Little did I know then that
I wouldn't hear them make a sound again for nearly two years. With
the departure of the Sunrays, I wheeled the shorter-but-just-as-deep
MAXX 3s back into position, being sure to site them exactly where
they had been set up (I had marked everything with masking tape).
It was like getting to know them all over again, an enlightening process.
Putting aside the different bass presentation, which is about weight,
power and bloom with the MAXX 3s, there was an abundance of midrange
information that united seamlessly with the treble above and bass
below.
This is a way of saying that these large multi-driver speakers are
coherent -- sounding in manner and quality like one driver throughout
their range. While the drivers of the Sunrays are well integrated
with each other, there was no question that the diamond tweeter possessed
a special character that drew attention to it. This is simply a matchless
driver, at least in this implementation, and one for which there is
probably no exact midrange or woofer equivalent.
Still, the Sunrays managed a holistic presentation that was founded
on their characteristic combination of resolution and ease. This applies
to the MAXX 3s as well, although they sound bigger, no matter the
recording, perhaps because they present more in-room presence. As
mentioned, the Sunrays walked a fine line between in-room and within-the-recording
energy.
Neither speaker is insistent or emphasized as it transitions into
the treble, and that's welcome as far as I'm concerned, as this closely
aligns with live music, avoiding the detrimental electronic artifacts
of reproduction. Both offer suave, well-behaved high frequencies that
convey the qualities of instruments that fall into their range, although
the Sunrays are more variegated in this regard.
A more relevant face-off for admirers of the Tidal sound is between
the Sunrays and the Contriva Diacera SEs ($58,200 per pair), which
I reviewed more than a year ago. I expected that the Sunrays would
be more accomplished than their smaller, less expensive brethren,
owing to the ambition of their design, their sheer size and their
driver complement, but their performance was significantly better
in every way.
They sounded bigger, more transparent (especially through the midrange),
and wider in bandwidth. They also revealed more about each piece of
equipment in front of them, but unlike speakers that are ruthless
in the way they expose such variation, the Sunrays always sounded
composed, always made deeply involving music. The same could be said
for the Contriva Diacera SEs, although to a lesser degree.
Wilson Audio rates the MAXX 3s as 91dB sensitive, and I have no reason
to doubt this, as, for instance, the Lamm ML2.2s were a wonderful
match with them, while the same amps couldn't cut it with the Sunrays.
This translates to a difference in dynamic agility, the MAXX 3s sounding
more free and open at lower levels and attaining their highest points
in volume in a more immediate, even startling way.
Yet, with all of the other amps I had here, the Sunrays were anything
but dynamically stunted. With ample power, they captured a wide range
of volume changes along with detail at all listening levels, never
losing their sense of proportion.
Of course, there is a huge difference in price between the Sunrays
and MAXX 3s, and the same holds true for design and construction.
Wilson Audio pays great attention to the cabinets for its speakers,
and the MAXX 3s are a melange of different high-tech materials chosen
for their properties within certain frequency ranges.
Intellectually, the Sunrays' use of HP-MDF seems unrefined by comparison,
although Jörn Janczak would certainly argue that his approach to speaker
design makes his choice of cabinet material just as deliberate and
vital as Wilson Audio's. Still, when speakers in this price range
use everything from proprietary composites to aircraft-grade aluminum,
one whose cabinet is made of MDF, even a special grade of it, suffers
a perceptual deficit.
However, as audiophiles well know, perception and sonic reality are
often unrelated, and the Sunrays definitely excel at the latter. I
doubt that a potential buyer lost in the music that pours forth will
hesitate because of what's beneath the gleaming surface of the Sunrays.
The appeal
One of
the most interesting things about the Sunrays -- and indeed the entire
Tidal speaker line -- concerns the company's customer base. Since
my review of the Contriva Diacera SEs, I've become e-acquainted with
a number of Tidal owners, including two who own Sunrays.
I initially found this out-of-the-blue contact surprising, because
Tidal has such a low profile, at least here in the US, where it doesn't
advertise and handles its own distribution. Also, while I've reviewed
some speakers from companies that would be considered Tidal's competition,
I've corresponded with owners of those speakers very little -- and
I've never encountered owners of other competing brands.
What I've come to understand through corresponding with Sunray owners
is that Tidal has tapped into its market in a completely nontraditional
way, and I have yet to comprehend fully how this happened -- other
than that music lovers seem to admire the speakers.
There are over 30 pairs of Sunrays in use, and many more Contriva
Diacera SEs, Piano Ceras and other less-costly models. While 30 pairs
doesn't seem like a huge number, reread the previous paragraph: there
is no advertising for the Sunray, which translates to a higher profile
for its competition, yet there is still an enthusiastic customer base
-- for a speaker that costs over $150,000 per pair.
After spending months with the Sunrays, I get it. These are uniquely
revealing and musical speakers whose spatial characteristics and tonal
sophistication befit their stature and unusual design. More than enjoying
the Sunrays, I valued them as an alternative to so many big, expensive
speakers whose promise goes unrealized for one reason or another.
While no speaker has cornered the market on sonic realism, the Tidal
Sunrays met a number of my personal standards for this, at least as
they exist at this point in time.
reviewed
by Marc Mickelson
