auditioning sessions vs. listening sessions


By "auditioning" sessions I mean those times when your attention is directed, first and foremost, to how the system and/or CD/LP/etc. *sounds*, as a result of the combination of hardware and software being used; during such sessions you might get up from the listening chair to tweak the toe-in of the speakers by 1/2 an inch, or you might be swapping some new interconnects in and out of the system.

By "listening" sessions I mean those times when your attention is directed, first and foremost, to the music, in and of itself (particularly if the composition is new to you), and/or the performance of the music.

So my questions are: can one make this kind of a distinction? Is it desirable to keep these two kinds of sessions separate? If so, how successful are you in doing so? Do you have any specific strategies for achieving this? For you, does the one tend to seep involuntarily into the other? Would this seepage be a good or a bad thing?
twoleftears

Showing 3 responses by detlof

Hi Newbee,
How right you are. No flow if you audition, not even that of the grape, however the latter helps in flowing and drifting when just enjoying the music....(:
Practical case in point:
It is difficult to drive my beloved MA-2 Mk.III Atmas into clipping on my U-1PX Sound Labs with normal listening levels. But they do, when I try to listen to a Steinway at more or less normal concert levels. They clip very politely, however they do and it takes away from the enjoyment and I slip, without wanting to, for a short moment from the listening to the auditioning level but snap out of it once that moment has passed, especially with Martha Argerich playing Liszt's sonata in B minor on LP, DG 2530193, a wonderfully recorded piece of piano music, which has tremendous dynamic swings and covers the entire range the grand piano is capable of. I love Argerich and I love Liszt, and for once this is a splendid DG recording.
Today I had the chance to listen to the same music with VTL Siegfrieds in my rig for the first time. Naturally I started in the "auditioning mode", but then when in the "allegro energico" at the first fortissimo no clipping occurred, but contrary to before the full pure sound of the lower registers of the Steinway filled my room, I blissfully slipped into "listening mode" until the end. I sat in the dark and just listened.

Generally I try to keep both modes strictly separated, tweaking, testing apart from listening enjoyment and if the rig is more or less stable and doing what it is supposed to, this is not too difficult. There are software changes of course, but if you leave it be, I find, that the ear adapts fairly quickly and you accept how it sounds, if it is NOT the rig. For me the rig has to serve the music, not vice versa, so I try to keep auditioning sessions short but intense. 90% of the time I listen, but will snap out of it, if something goes wrong. If that is the case I'll audition until the problem is identified and I have do decide if I must live with it or can solve it within the range of my possibilities. I have a benchmark which I compare the sound of my rig to and that is the "gestalt" of all sorts of live music, which I carry within me. I've listened to Martha Argerich a lot within live events, when we both were young and until now, as we are much older and I believe I know how a pianoforte should sound when she has her hands on it and her feet on the pedals. Today, as I came a tad closer to the real thing, I stopped auditioning and the rest was just bliss. The rig served the music and that, as far as I am concerned, is how it should be.
Ha Newbee,
still off topic but much to the point, your tale, though much more civilized than mine to follow, reminds me of a wedding I was invited to many years ago, where I drifted into a room full of different wines waiting to be served during the day of festivities. I was alone and settled down to taste. When they found me, their mood was different to mine. I was gloriously happy, they were not. I woke up next morning in my own bed. I don't remember how I got home. When I looked, my car was parked properly where it always was. I was about 21 at that time. Long, long ago. Wasn't always that lucky as I had been on that day...No, it wasn't my own wedding....