Constellation is a new range of electronics
designed by, er, high-end audio superstars. We assess the Virgo preamplifier
and Centaur monoblock power amplifiers.
Few manufacturers have followed the Crosby,
Stills, Nash & Young route to superstardom, though it makes sense. You
assemble a ‘super-group' to create your products, headed — hopefully — by one
whose ego personality quirks or other debilitating characteristics don’t get in
the way. In this case, the “Graham Nash’ of the group is one Peter Madnick.
Although he looks exactly like what
Hollywood would cast for a mad scientist - his surname is no accident! - Peter
is so level-headed and clear-thinking that constantly astonishes with
laterally- conceived answers to gnawing questions. His sheer intelligence was
enough to power the creation of one of hi-fi's most consumer-friendly range
ever: the bargain digital products of Audio Alchemy
FETs
throughout - a J-FEI' voltage stage [inset square] and two single-ended
N-channel MOSFEI' power amp modules on each of the huge internal heatsinks the
flank the Centaur
A whole ’Nuther thing
Constellation, though, is a whole 'nuther
thing, despite Madnick stating that he was told to design the best and then cut
the prices. Like everything, prices are relative: the Virgo preamplifier and
Centaur monoblocks reviewed here are the models from the ‘economy’ Performance range,
yet total $10,475. As for Reference prices, I shudder to think...
While the companies are completely separate,
the owners of Constellation are also behind the Continuum turntable, so clearly
their idea of worth is not far-removed from, say, estate agents in Mayfair.
Equally, they understand the need for a ‘no compromise' attitude and some form
of provenance to justify such costs, so they told Peter to assemble his “fantasy
football team', or, more appropriately, given that this is about music, the
aforementioned super-group.
A
432x230-pixel screen on the Virgo preamp's fascia is flanked by rotaries for
balance and volume. The preamp is fed by an outboard power supply in matching
grey
And Madnick has created a team so
overwhelmingly heroic that anyone with even an inkling of the high-end’s
history will be dazzled recalling the ill-fated Lineage line- level –
coincidentally conceived by one of the Constellation stars. ‘For low-level
analogue design,’ says Madnick, ‘we engaged the services of John Curl- the
master of low-noise complementary- differential JFET design. Join and I had
worked together numerous times over the years. Who better to turn to for our
phono preamplifiers and as ta contributor to our line-stage design?
‘For power, Bascom King was the obvious
choice. Expert in extracting the best from tube designs, he’s now charged with
perfecting the sound of a unique all-MOSFET design. When it came to the new
world of media players, my old partner at Monster Cable, Demian Martin, had
proven himself at the forefront of the industry.’
Madnick also knew that the stuff had to
look as good as the Reference line, even if costs meant that it would be
nowhere near as radically styled. The exterior design was created by Alex
Rasmussen and Brad Babineaux at Neal Feay Industries in Goleta, California.
(Did I forget to mention that this brand is as Left Cost as CSNY? Curl, it
should be remembered, helped create the Grateful Dead’s Wall of Sound.)
Taking up real estate
While a pretty-enough design, the Virgo is
rather anodyne, its greyness john Major-like. A plain-Jan outboard power supply
feeds it via two umbilical cables, connecting at the back where you find rows
of both XLRs and phono sockets for every input and output: four sources, two
sets of outputs and RS232 and USB inputs for networks and firmware upgrades.
At the front, the central panel’s 432 x
230-pixel screen is flanked by rotaries for balance and volume, while other
operations are accessed through menus activated by a row of five buttons
underneath the slightly protruding display panel. These include muting, power on
from standby, ‘home’ to return to the basic screen, display intensity, input selection
and the setting of input levels. The nicely-made aluminium remote control offers
standby, mute, volume up/down, sources election, and balance and phase inversion.
Pressing
the bar on the front of the Centaur monoblock for three seconds initiates a
series of self-diagnosis checks. Once completed, the light turns from red to
blue and the amp is ready for use
Let's get the whinge out of the way: the
fascia volume control is irritating. There is no other word for it. Nothing
about it is intuitive — even the display all but hides the minus sign next to
the digits showing the level setting. As for the speed of raising and lowering
the volume, I never got used to it, but almost wet myself watching the normally
unflappable importer cursing its recalcitrance. Instead, I reverted to the
remote control whenever possible.
As for the Centaur monoblocks — all you
need to know before you even approach the lorry delivering them is that each
weighs 98lb in old money. They’re huge, and — as does the preamp — they like free
space around them, though nothing ever grew hot to the touch.
These are seriously powerful amplifiers at
a factory-rated 500W apiece into 8ohm,with a switch-on regimen to ensure than
nothing nasty happens. You hold down the bar across the front for three
seconds, it turns red, and then goes through a sequence of self—assessment
before the light turns blue for operational mode
A Critical Choice
Now the conundrum: at the back, you have a
choice of single-ended options for the latter: ‘Balanced' for use with the
perception of on-Constellation mass and power. With preamps and 'Direct’ for
use with a Virgo or one of its siblings. We tried both, and got different
results, so I am
(1) At a loss to state which is ‘better',
but
(2) Overjoyed to note that in both cases,
the changes were audible enough to leave no doubt as to which was better
“Eleanor McEvoy was in the room with a
ghostly, eerie authenticity’
Here’s what happened: in one system, using
Magico S5s, ‘Direct’ was preferred. In PM's system, with 88W 801s, ‘Balanced’
was superior. This is crucial if you have any intention of shopping for
Centaurs: you must try both.
Most
impressive was the drumming, crisp and solid, with weight and scale, behind
those soaring vocals.
What was evident in both cases had nothing to
do with actual wattage, power, call it what you will, but with the perception of
mass and power. With one setting, the system sounded ‘OK’: clearly high—end,
but not particularly dynamic or open. In the other position, it was like it had
mainlined Viagra.
We are not talking about subtle changes,
like going from nickel banana plugs to gold-plated, or lifting your cables off
the floor, or other mumbo-jumbo. This is the real deal, as important as correct
VTA or speakers being in phase. One track was enough to convince us of the importance
of getting this right for room or system. As some of you know, I am so in love
with Eleanor McEvoy's version of ‘God Only Knows’ on If You Leave...
[MoscodiscMOSCD40l 0] that it could be the co-respondent in a divorce (I remain
happily married, by the way). Paul Miller had thought the sound of the CD was
only so-so, distinctly underwhelming when you consider that she's an audiophile
deity. But he'd been listening to it with the Constellations in the direct
setting. We switched to Balanced, I put the disc on — just voice and piano —
and Paul just grinned from ear to ear. PM is not a man prone to error, but he
quickly recanted his opinion of the disc. The Centaurs' settings were enough to
transform a CD from good-to-bad and back to, well, incredible.
McEvoy was in the room, with ghostly, eerie
authenticity. The palpability was almost disturbing; simply because the realism
was of an order rarely achieved in sound reproduction. I smiled heavenward to
the late J Gordon Holt who succinctly identified those rare moments when a
sound system lulls you into thinking that the music really is in your listening
space – almost a dream state where one’s senses are well and truly fooled.
Another exquisite female voice followed
that sparse, unplugged session, Eva Cassidy’s achingly gorgeous ‘People Get
Ready‘, from the new Best Of Eva Cassidy[Blix 62-10206]. Now I have no idea what
techniques were used for Cassidy, who was a virtual unknown at the time of her
death, and whose exposure to major labels was minimal. Perhaps what we’re getting
is all posthumous. Suffice it to say, this live recording oozed atmosphere.
Most impressive was the drumming, crisp and
solid, with weight and scale, behind those soaring vocals. I had the sensation
of a full-scale drum kit, not an Airfix-like ‘/24th scale facsimile. A fragile
guitar stage-left created a gossamer-light melody, perfectly complementing the wispiness
of the cymbals. The cohesion was remarkable for a live recording, so clean that
the next track, ‘Anniversary Song’, did not jar with its extra, heightened,
studio-derived clarity.