Ensemble 96's So Is My Love from 2L Recordings

Let me set this up. It's just a couple of days before Christmas, and it's snowing outside. It's really snowing. I know, because I just drove an hour and a half to get here, to the office, and it was an ordeal. Once I settled in I stuck this disc into the CD player, the latest from 2L Recordings in Norway, and to my surprise and delight it's a choral work. Choral recordings from 2L are even a bigger treat than normal since these are the albums where you really hear the big Norwegian churches that usually serve as a venue. The voices rise to the big wooden beams overhead and then blossom and expand in size. At the same time, you can hear each voice in the chorus. You can single one out and follow it all the way through--just like you would if you were actually present at the recording.

Sitting here in this warm room, listening to yet another beautiful recording from 2L, I'm suddenly realizing that I do this every year around this time. There's something about these 2L Recordings that really enhance the idea of winter, of staying inside and keeping warm. So Is My Love is indeed about love and faith, which is appropriate for December the 22nd, and the beauty of that is not lost on me even though I am a heathen. (I always feel compelled to throw that in somewhere.) It's becoming sort of a tradition for me, and I'm usually the last person to observe holiday traditions.

Ensemble 96, a chamber choir of 24 voices, is highly respected throughout Europe and has been nominated for a Grammy or two in the past. I mention this because So Is My Love has also been nominated for a Grammy this year (Best Surround Album). It's not hard to see why. Led by 34-year-old conductor Nina T. Karlsen and periodically augmented by Mari Skeie Ljones' gorgeous violin, the choir delivers their interpretation of choral works by Martin Odegaard, Torbjorn Dyrud, Karlheinz Stockhausen, Jean-Yves Daniel-Lesur and Frank Havroy. It's hard not to be moved by all the sheer beauty in one single disc.

The album's title, according to the liner notes, has dual meanings: "For me, love is like this" and "This is what my beloved is like." These musical selections were chosen because they explore those themes in depth--the differences between love in and of itself, and the very nature of the things that we love. In particular this music describes how prayer can reflect opposites--longing and joy, passion and humor and so on. Many of the pieces here draw inspiration from the Bible, Song of Solomon in particular, but other sources are used such as William Blake's poetry and the music of Thomas Tallis.

It sounds like a deep and heady meditation for the holidays, but it is surprising how light and ethereal it all sounds coming out of the Uranienborg Church in Norway. This definitely music that expresses joy instead of loss--one of the Dyrud pieces is titled "Laughing song"--and as I listen to it and stare out the window at all of the falling snow, I can't help but smile.

Oh, and good luck to 2L's Morten Lindberg at the Grammy Awards!

Stale Kleiborg's Mass for the Modern Man on Blu-ray Audio and CD/SACD Hybrid

"Ståle Kleiberg's Mass for Modern Man is about the loss of existential meaning as an antithesis to faith and belief. The work commutes between these two extremes, and raises the following underlying question: Is belief possible for modern man? In this work, the answer is 'yes'; not a resounding 'yes', but a 'yes' in spite of all."

This is such a fascinating concept to me personally. Every time I review a piece of sacred music--and 99% of the time it's been something from 2L Recordings--I have to mention something about my own religious beliefs, or lack thereof, and my attraction to music that is strongly spiritual "in spite of it all." Masses and requiems and hymns have such a delicate beauty to them because of the density of feeling and how the very idea of worship of a higher being conjures up such a complex set of emotions. They never fail to move me on some level.

Upon casual listening of Kleiberg's Mass for Modern Man, however, I immediately sensed a difference from the usual themes of belief and faith. On the surface, this piece is structured like sacred music, but there are themes that border on the earthly and the exotic. This is a piece for two soloists (soprano Mari Eriksmoen and baritone Johannes Weisser), and backed by the magnificent Trondheim Symphony Orchestra and Choir, and it is uncommonly lush with its imagery--uncommon for sacred music but not for the talented folks involved.

Kleiberg, whose music has been featured prominently on 2L Recordings prior to this, was commissioned to write this piece for Munchner Dommusik, and his inspiration was drawn from the fact that he knew it had to relate to "our modern condition" and not some divine piece of folklore from centuries ago. He enlisted the help of British writer Jessica Gordon to write the text, which has been supplied in the liner notes. This is where you can explore the daunting yet poetic aspects of the mass.

"I am forgotten, like a dead man out of mind; I have come to be like something lost." These are the first lines, uttered by a refugee who has lost his homeland, and while they superficially resemble so many traditional hymns ("I once was lost, but now I'm found"), there is a deeper lament that seems to originate from centuries and centuries of propagation and diaspora and even technology, the oft-covered loss of individuality. "No eye looks kindly on me, no friendly hand, no greeting called out in the morning air."

Fortunately, there's sort of a happy ending for modern man, something more tangible than "good news!" Kleiberg could have ended Mass for the Modern Man with the line "This is the valley as dark as death. I will sleep now." But his goal, as mentioned above, was to find solace in belief in spite of loneliness and despair. Kleiberg therefore ends his modern mass with a Gloria, albeit one that is not quite traditional. It is hesitant, as it should be. It's conditional and realistic.

It goes without saying that this recording sounds utterly beautiful in every aspect. Despite the heavy subject matter, it can be enjoyed on a purely aesthetic level, one that embraces beauty and majesty and a sweeping sense of wonder hidden under the sadness. I'll even go out on a limb and say that this is one of the most listenable recordings 2L has ever made--not because the others aren't imminently listenable, but because this one is so moving. The usual intellectual challenge is there, of course, but you can also choose to forego the epic ideas in favor of an exceptionally beautiful mass.

Jan Gunnar Hoff's Stories from 2L Recordings

I'm at the tail end of my first Syracuse winter, and I seem to have survived. According to the locals, it's been a pretty average season--well over 100 inches of snowfall so far, but certainly not all clumped together at once. Other than slipping on the ice four times in one week right before the holidays, I appear to be strong enough to handle northern life.

Today, however, we are expecting a big snowstorm. It's the middle of March, and we're still not out of the woods yet. The first piece of music I'm playing today is Jan Gunnar Hoff's Stories, another exquisite recording from 2L Recordings in Norway. I've played this disc several times over the last few weeks--it's the perfect soundtrack for watching the snowfall through a big window. These fifteen pieces for solo piano are all songs in the strictest sense of the word--they range from two to five minutes long, and they have specific song structures. Most importantly, they all tell a story.

Jan Gunnar Hoff is a familiar face to anyone who has been purchasing Blu-ray discs, CD/SACD hybrids and even LPs from 2L. I've already reviewed several of his releases right here on this blog: Living was reviewed in 2013, and the Hoff Ensemble's Quiet Winter Night is one of my favorite LPs to demo at a trade show. As a solo pianist, Hoff is one of those inventive performers who can sit in front of a keyboard and improvise endlessly. His style is fluid and lyrical, but at the same time he can connect to a wide range of emotions--it certainly isn't just pretty piano music he's playing. There's bite and there's thunder.

In Stories, however, Hoff does an amazing thing. Those beautiful improvisations are blended with familiar songs, familiar passages, even fleeting moments. Aside from a glorious and thoughtful cover of "God Only Knows," a rearrangement of the traditional Norwegian folk song "Varmlandsvisan" and Gerhard Winkler's "Answer Me," these are all original compositions from Hoff, so those gentle moments of recognition are wonderfully ethereal. At various points through Stories I'm reminded of everything from Thomas Dolby to Alan Silvestri's original score from Cast Away. These are incidental, however--the moment I lock in with a flash of realization, Hoff has moved onto something else.

This wavering between pure improvisation and surreptitious homage make Stories one of the most rewarding solo piano works I've heard in some time. By now you know that 2L Recordings are perhaps the most lifelike and natural you can buy in 2017, so I don't need to tell you how warm and spacious the Sofienberg Church sounds, or how producer Morten Lindberg has a better handle on how to bring out the wood and the wire of a piano out into the open better than anyone else.

Just grab this recording and wait for a snowy day, like today, and stare out the window and think about everything that matters to you.

2L Recordings' Himmelrand on Blu-ray Audio and CD/SACD Hybrid

Chapter 1:

"A pipe organ and a choir is sometimes all I need," an audiophile friend told me recently. He's the type of person who has been caught more than once playing Christmas music in the middle of summer, so I take him at his word. He's kind of a nut this way, and I've rolled my eyes at him more than once for doing this.

Fortunately for him, I'd just received this 2L Recording from Norway, Himmelrand, which features new hymnals from the Church of Norway, performed by the Uranienborg Vokalensemble conducted by Elisabeth Holte, with Inger-Lise Ulsrud on the enormous pipe organ at the Uranienborg Church. He sat and listened to this recording straight through to the end with a silly smile on his face the whole time. It was also his first experience with a 2L Recording, and he just couldn't believe the warm, open and engaging sound. Honestly, I think he was in a deep hypnotic state by the end.

Chapter 2:

A few weeks later, I played Himmelrand at a high-end audio show. A man walked into the room and within ten seconds--SERIOUSLY, TEN SECONDS TOPS--he had pulled out a notepad and started asking me what was playing. I handed him the CD case and he started scribbling down all the information. This was his first experience with a 2L Recording as well, and after a twenty minute conversation I think I had convinced him to go home and order the entire catalog. "I've never made such an instant emotional connection to a recording before," he explained. I never quite shook the feeling that he was pulling my leg because seriously, ten seconds was all it took. That's it. But this show was in Canada, and Canadians are famously polite, so maybe he was just being nice. Or maybe he was just like the first guy, deeply conditioned to have this sort of response to sacred music.

So it's safe to say that if a pipe organ and a choir is all you need to feel fulfilled, start here.

As for me, I still ponder about the same exact things when I listen to sacred music. You can go through every other review I've done on this type of music and I'll make the same comments about why I'm so attracted to these recordings despite an adamant agnostic streak. I can still get a huge thrill sitting in a huge church and listening to either a thundering pipe organ or the soft ocean that is a large choir, as long as everyone understands that I'll be slipping out the back once someone gets up and starts talking. There's something so old and ancient and peaceful in hymnals like these, and I won't deny their effect on my disposition.

The idea behind Himmelrand is, as usual, intriguing. These 17 hymnals have been resurrected (pun not intended) by modern Norwegian composers such as Aage Samuelsen and 2L mainstay Ola Gjeilo. As the liner notes explain, "An old hymn in a fresh musical setting loses none of its power; it simply undergoes a change--sometimes small, sometimes more substantial--to its character." The result is a collection of hymnals that seem to occupy an intriguing place between the sheer beauty and joy of the classic versions with more adventurous interpretations from these modern masters. That said, truly atonal moments are few and far between, and Himmelrand sounds more like a volume of undiscovered gems than anything else. Coupled with the goosebump inducing sonics, Himmelrand becomes something incredibly rare for me, a church service I would gladly attend.

Terje Winge's Organism on 2L Recordings

For many audiophiles, there's nothing like the sound of a big pipe organ in a big church. That's the traditional test for full range speakers--can they produce that famous 16 Hz tone from a 32' pipe? There's no other acoustic musical instrument that has that wide of a frequency response, or at least none I'm aware of, and there's no other instrument that can naturally produce such a huge sound field since the pipes take up so much physical space. It's quite an experience to sit in an old church and hear one of the world's great pipe organs create tones that seem to come at you from all directions. Recreating that immense space in a recording is one of those Holy Grails for high-end audio.

That said, I'm kind of indifferent about the pipe organ as a musical instrument. I have audiophile friends who absolutely adore it and I can totally understand why--it creates such a singularly impressive sound. It's a veritable goose-bump machine. And I get that--I have a few Virgil Fox LPs at home and I like to trot them out once in a while to wow my buddies. But for me, true pipe organ music tends to fit into two categories--the spooky and the sacred. In my opinion, that limits its appeal. For an instrument that such an enormous frequency response, it's a shame that I feel that way.

Leave it to 2L Recordings in Norway to change my mind. Their latest release on CD and Blu-ray audio, Organism, features three unique pipe organ pieces from composers Kjell Mork Karlsen, Trygve Madsen and Kjell Flem, all performed by Terje Winge--the Professor of Organ at the Norwegian Academy of Music. These composers have obviously been informed by the sacred side of the pipe organ canon, with specific references made to Gregorian chants and the Lutheran chorale traditions. And a significant portion of this album sounds like the type of pipe organ you would typically hear in a church, albeit a Scandinavian one (in this instance, the Alesund Church in Norway).

But there are moments, especially in the quieter passages, where the music launches on a secular tangent and starts evoking feelings and visuals far outside of the Christian liturgy. The air traveling through those pipes meander and crawl around the room and start to dig in with prying fingers--sadness, despair, unease and worry. These emotions aren't necessarily alien to the ideas behind the hymnal, but it's odd to let your mind wander in and out of these notes, out the door and into mysterious and troublesome landscapes where anything can happen.

That sounds a bit fanciful, but that's my reaction to this strange and haunting organ music. It took my mind to places where it hasn't been before and definitely engaged me in an unprecedented way. It's so easy to become lost in these gigantic sounds, to ride a roller coaster of dynamics and find yourself alternately soothed and excited by what you hear. I couldn't imagine being at a church service and hearing these pieces played. What the hell kind of church is this?

On top of all that, you have Morten Lindberg of 2L performing his magic. As I mentioned in my review of TrondheimSolistene's Reflections last week, 2L has upped the ante for recording techniques, using Dolby Atmos in conjunction with Auro-3D surround for the Blu-ray disc. In other words, the recording Organism will envelop you in exactly the same way as the actual recording in the church. If you're the type of audiophile who's looking for that big pipe organ recording to really wow your buddies, this is it. But if you're like me, looking for an emotional entry point into this fascinating musical instrument, you'll be really, really surprised by Organism.

2L Recordings' Carola Bauckholt: Ich muss mit Dir reden, Performed by the Cikada Ensemble

I'm saving the best for last. I've been wanting to talk about this album for a while now.

As I've already mentioned once or twice, I've received quite a few 2L Recordings to review over the last few months and now the pile is gone. This lone title, with Cikada written prominently across the front cover, arrived shortly after I returned from CES at the beginning of the year so it was last to be reviewed. That means I really couldn't discuss it in the same context of a trade show as I did with the others. That's unfortunate, because I'd really love to see the crowds respond to it. My gut says I'd clear the room, but at least a couple of people might stay and declare this one of the most intriguing recordings they've ever heard.

To the unadventurous, Cikada might sound like a recording of random sound effects and an occasional BIG moment that makes you leap out of your chair. (For now, I'm just going to call this album Cikada--Carola Bauckholt is the composer, Ich muss mit Dir reden is the title of the album and the piece is performed by the Cikada Ensemble, the same intriguing group responsible for Eivind Buene's Possible Cities/Essential Landscapes.) Perhaps that's why this recording might not work at an audio show or a dealer event. You can't just listen casually. You have to crawl inside these sounds and inhabit the same space.

Once you do this, you start to notice that there are structures and rhythms to these strange sounds. You start to recognize these patterns as somewhat musical. Then you start to notice how many of these sounds are produced by somewhat conventional musical instruments, and how the startling blast of a siren can slowly reveal itself to be a clarinet or a violin. Next, you'll hear a sound rumbling under the floor boards that might be a double bass and it might be a didgeradoo. And is that someone trying to stop a desk fan with their front teeth?

Then, after you make enough of these connections, the music starts to rise out of the chaos as an actual melody, a beautiful one, played with emotion. The surprising part is that these epiphanies, which never appear for more than a minute or so, start to connect to the sound effects until you realize something.

It's all music. It's been so all along.

What I'm describing, of course, is a musical challenge, one that many won't accept. You do have to dig deep into Cikada, and that means reading some of the most descriptive and helpful liner notes I've ever seen. The album contains four lengthy pieces totaling more than 54 minutes, but the music changes its structure so often that the entire experience resembles a suite. In the liner notes, however, you get very specific insights into the meaning of each section, and what images these sounds should evoke. These insights come from two different perspectives--that of Kenneth Karlsson, the pianist and artistic leader of Cikada, and composer Carola Bauckholt. If you feel that Cikada is too overwhelming to digest all at once, these insights will help to bring everything into focus.

I have plenty of experimental music in my record collection. At this point of my life, I'm starting to understand that I really dig most of it. What separates Cikada from the majority of those other albums is the way it is recorded. I've said over and over that these titles from 2L Recordings are state-of-the-art when it comes to sound quality. But this album may win the blue ribbon for its enveloping 3-D presentation--and I'm not even listening to this amazing disc through one of the available surround-sound formats supported by 2L through their innovative recording technologies. There's unprecedented soundstage depth, at least in my experience.

But what's most amazing is how well each performer and each instrument is highlighted on the stage, and how the resonances coming from one instrument interacts with its immediate environment, especially when it comes to the other instruments. You can hear all of that here. You can hear everything. That's why I enjoy this album so much, and why I have to play it in its entirety each time. This is difficult material and it's obviously not for everyone, but reviewing this album has resulted in some of the most memorable listening sessions in quite some time.

Anatomy of Sound's Song Circus on 2L Recordings

In last week's review of 2L Recordings' Mezzotints, I mentioned that I had a handful of albums in for review that might be a little too avant-garde to play at trade shows. That's too bad, because I've had so many musical epiphanies while listening to music that's "outside of the box." I think about musical pieces I've heard over the years such as Kevin Volan's White Man Sleeps or Scott Walker's The Drift or heck, even my favorite rock album of all time, Pixies' Doolittle, that have changed my tastes in profound ways because they were so challenging to me at the time.

When I first received Anatomy of Sound's Song Circus right before the holidays and stuck it in my CD player, I instantly thought to myself that this was NOT something I could bring to CES and play in my room--unless it was the end of the day, of course, and I wanted to clear the room and head back to the hotel. This collection of experimental pieces for five voices and "electronics" is definitely not in the wheel house of your average grumpy old audiophile, but if you can power through your preconceptions about songs and melodies you might find that Song Circus will evoke feelings and emotions that are as rewarding as they are unsettling.

"Through minutiae explorations into the very microlevels of sound anatomy, through vocal investigations as well as the activation of spatial premises and the discovery of timbral qualities of objects, Song Circus masters an unusual audial vocabulary that expands the idea of what music can be."

That's the brief description of this album on the liner notes, and it pretty much hits the nail on the head in a paradoxically vague way. What you'll notice first is the presence of five female voices making random sounds that dance around our definition of singing. Noises, pops, whoops and even sirens abound in this open, airy soundscape, defining spaces and daring you to hear ever closer. Then you'll notice the low rumblings in the distance, drone variations and sudden squawks that might make you jump at times--especially if you're tempted to lean forward to catch all of the tiny little details.

The overall impression is sort of a mix between ambient, Bjork and "Revolution No.9," despite the fact that these sounds are all captured organically and naturally by Morten Lindberg's microphones. You might be tempted to think that so much of Song Circus is a studio creation, but you'd be missing the point. While the first part of the album, a 12-part suite titled "Landscape and Figures," does unite the five improvised female voices with Ruben Sverra Gjertsen's sounds, which have been channeled through either eight or sixteen sound channels--Morten Lindberg's new Immersive Sound technologies, which takes surround sound to a new level of complexity, is the perfect partner for this composition--attention must be paid to how those sounds interact with the singers. This is, to a certain extent, reminiscent of the idea that an electric guitar is actually an acoustic instrument since the tonal qualities are dependent on how the guitar amp interacts with the room.

Once you get past that distinction, the second piece makes more sense. "Persepone," Ole-Henrik Moe's piece for five voices and wine glasses, is a purely acoustic exercise that focuses on "vocal sound, dynamics and microtonality." It's purer and more aesthetically soothing than "Landscapes and Figures," and yet it gives you more context to enjoy the album as a whole.

So no, you will not be humming these pieces to yourself after listening in your car on the way to work. This is brain music, to put it succinctly, something to help you define your own expectations when it comes to your musical sensibilities. Song Circus will either challenge you and expand your horizons, or it will make you head for the exits. But I can't think of a more informative recording in my entire music collection. If you patiently listen to Song Circus in its entirety, you'll emerge from the experience knowing more about your sound system and how it interacts with your listening room. You'll also know more about your brain, and how it interacts with new information.

As much as I enjoyed this album, and the way it revealed things I've never heard before, I'm even more excited about the other avant-garde recording I received from 2L. That one left me in complete awe, so check back in a couple of weeks!

2L Recordings' Fingergull on CD/SACD Hybrid

It's Christmas Eve here in Western Colorado, and I'm doing what I'm usually doing this time of year--getting ready for the Consumer Electronic Show in Vegas. It seems like every year the show is held earlier and earlier in January. I think most years we have to leave for the show the day after New Years' Day, and this year is no exception. So while everyone else is gathering around the mistletoe and getting some high-quality holiday lovin', I'm going through boxes in the garage, fretting about last minute shipments and spending an ordinate amount of time selecting music for the show.

I do have one advantage this year--I have a boatload of CD/SACD/Blu-ray audio discs from 2L Recordings in the review pile right now, and most of it sounds like wonderful demo music to share with the Vegas crowds. But after several years of attempting to choose appropriate music for my exhibit rooms, I've learned a few things. First, you have to choose music that will show off your system. Since all of the loudspeakers I'm using at the show are two-way stand-mounted monitors, I probably shouldn't bring Tool, System of a Down and the 1812 Overture to The Venetian.

Second, you have to pick music that keeps people in your room. That part is tricky. Because no matter what type of music you choose to play in your room, somebody's not going to like it. And they're going to tell you they don't like it. Then they're going to tell you to play one of their favorite pieces of music in the world, and they will throw a fit if you didn't bring it along to the show. If you don't even know who the artist/band/performer is, you might have to take a shot in the chops.

I'm thinking about this as I listen to Fingergull, a new album of sacred choral music that's based upon the arrival of a holy blood relic--in this case, a drop of Christ's blood--in 12th century Norway. (Fingergull is subtitled In festo susceptionis sanguinis Domini, which translates to "The blood of our Lord Jesus Christ came to Nidaros.") Anne Kleivset and her Schola Sanctae Sunnivae chorale have joined together to produce the first full recording of what is now known as The Holy Blood office, and even a heathen like me can feel the reverential awe in every single voice. The commitment to such a deep and thorough exploration of this music cycle is far more passionate than in most recordings you'll hear this year, and there's a point where all that emotion comes to the forefront and makes your heart skip a beat.

But will that play in Peoria or, better yet, the noisy and crowded halls during CES? That's certainly a gamble. Morten Lindberg of 2L has sent me numerous chorale recordings over the last few years, and they were all superb and, dare I say it, inspirational. These various recordings convey why I like sacred music so much--it isn't about the message, but the heart and soul of the messenger that matters to me. For the record, I can't think of a single recording that will let you absorb both the individual vocal contributions and the whole so easily. I think much of it has to do with the Ringsaker Church where it was recorded. By now you know that most 2L Recordings are captured in beautiful Norwegian churches, but I think this is the first one I've heard from this specific church. There's a balance to the warmth of the inner walls and Morten's skill at capturing all the detail within that warmth that is absolutely stunning.

I want my fellow CES attendees to get that. In reality, I expect wisecracks like "What, is this is a church?" That's not the point. Every time I review one of these recordings of sacred music, which of course is very different than sacred recordings of music, I tell myself that I probably won't be that into it. I mention the chasm between the purpose of the music and what I will ultimately extract from it. When it comes to these 2L recordings, however, I always leave the experience knowing that I felt something deep, something that's probably better left under the surface.

But if you're at CES and you want to hear massed vocals in an old church that will sound exactly like the real thing, come up to me and say the magic word: Fingergull.

2L Recordings' Astrognosia & Aesop on Blu-ray and SACD/CD Hybrid

For years I've wanted a audiophile-quality album of movie soundtracks from the '30s and '40s. When I hear those smallish orchestras using drama and sheer romantic sweep to express big ideas, it transports me back to Old Hollywood, when classical composers such as Erick Korngold and Franz Waxman were brought in by the big studios to give some of their releases a more sophisticated pedigree. There's just something about the mood this music achieves with its sultry horns, cinematic crescendos and melodic themes that weave through your mind until they click. With a theme such as Astrognosia $ Aesop, that same motif my be diluted somewhat by ancient mythology, but imagine perhaps a big historical epic starring Claudette Colbert and some lunk who looks good in a toga and a tunic. This is the album I've been waiting for.

Norwegian composer Magne Amdahl doesn't quite come from that era--he was born in 1941 and wrote Astrognosia in 1991 and Aesop's Fables, in 2012--but he does have very strong ties to Norwegian theater and film, and even commercials. In this splendid recording of these two powerful, emotional and somewhat nostalgic orchestral pieces, performed by the Norwegian Radio Orchestra, Amdahl evokes these older cinematic glories through dynamic flourishes that pay homage to a time when the direct approach was best when engaging contemporary audiences.

The first piece, Astrognosia, is sort of a Scandinavian variation on Gustav Holst's The Planets with the twelve signs of the Zodiac standing in for the solar system. Amdahl became quite fascinated by astrology over the years, explaining that "the composer in me began to think about what could be made of all this in musical terms." With that rationale, Taurus became "sturdy and loyal," Capricorn became "cautious and selfless," and so on. As Holst's planetary ambitions found their way into modern cinema, Astrognosia reaches for these same goals and achieves them--only time will tell if this exciting suite becomes a symphonic benchmark in the same way.

Aesop's Fables, on the other hand, heads off in quite a different direction--while the same grand themes abound, narrator Dennis Sorhoi's voice is so impish and his vocal rhythms so hypnotic that the performance takes on almost phantasmagorical glow. Suddenly, we are in the realm of fictional worlds, suggested by those classic morals, and the result is playful and hallucinatory.

Morten Lindberg of 2L recorded this goosebump-inducing performance in one of his favorite venues, the Jar Church in Norway, which always adds a rather warm, big sound to every recording whether it's a big orchestra or a solo musician. Here, the amazing acoustics reveal such natural timbres within the orchestra, conducted by Ingar Heini Bergby, and they intersect and dance in a truly generous way. Through his innovative approach to miking and staging within the church, part of a technology he calls Immersive Sound, Morten delivers a signature sound that embraces the listener from all sides as opposed from a fixed point on a stage some distance away. This is one reason why 2L Recordings sound more spacious, more natural and more engaging than most. Highly recommended.

2L Recordings' Symphonies of Wind Instruments on CD, SACD and Blu-ray Audio

On the surface, this new 2L Recording of the Royal Norwegian Navy Band is a primer for dynamics. You know, I'm talking about one of those recordings audiophiles use to demonstrate how exciting their systems are. Everything is dramatic, percussive and in your face, and if your heart is leaping then it must be a great recording. Reference Recordings and Sheffield both had similar releases by wind orchestras back in the '80s and they both became audiophile standards--I think I still hear recordings played at trade shows. Heck, this release is even called Symphonies of Wind Instruments--direct, plain and to the point.

As I'm settling in and judging this record by the first selection, Paul Hindemith's Konzertmusik, I'm thinking I have a handle on everything it's doing. This is a giant, spacious 3-D recording where large groups of instruments interact on an even larger stage, and everything is so crystal clear and lifelike. And again, on the surface, the Hindemith piece is played with the energy and exuberance of a skilled military band--but I couldn't imagine what parade what fit with this kind of music, which is the first hint that this isn't just another demo disc. What a whimsically desolate event that parade would be, I think.

Once the nearly twenty-minute Hindemith piece ended, it hit, one of those unfamiliar musical pieces from a favorite composer that just reminds you that there's so much beautiful music out there that I, or anyone else, will never hear. This is from a guy, of course, who's lucky enough to spend large chunks of the day listening to music, and I'm melancholy about this fact. That, of course, is the feeling this music drew out: Arnold Schoenberg's Theme and Variations. I love Schoenberg for the same reason I love Scott Walker--they were both on the cusp of something, and then they turned the corner and found something else. It's fascinating to gather up a wide selection of Schoenberg recordings and just randomly listen to snippets and guess where the composer's head was along that big progressive arc of discovery.

Theme and Variations stands out as an oasis of delicacy in this album, and for complicated reasons. It's no less bracing than the other selections on the album, which also include an additional piece by Hindemith, Symphony in B flat and two relatively brief pieces by Igor Stravinsky and Rolf Wallin. It's just that there are emotions and images in this music that seem to gain an additional level of meaning when played by a disciplined military band. It's not that the two pieces don't fit together--it's just that you're surprised when you see the final result. I would imagine that credit goes to conductor Ingar Bergby, and of course 2L's Morten Lindberg, for creating this musical challenge.

Needless to say, this is a 2L recording so it sounds completely wonderful. If you're looking for the "air around the instruments," you won't find a better example. Just be prepared that there's a point where this unusual recording stops being what you think it's being, and then becomes something else. And that's exciting.

2L Recordings' Trace of Impressions on Hybrid CD/SACD

What a wonderful surprise--yet another in a series, I should say--from Morten Lindberg of 2L Recordings. Trace of Impressions contains exquisite performances from two of my favorite composers of all time...Claude Debussy and Maurice Ravel. It's not surprising that a CD would contain a programme made up entirely of these two French masters, since their histories and themes are so entwined, but I'm amazed at the freshness of the selections. Trace avoids the obvious "hits" and focuses on what we classic rock aficionados call "deep tracks"--hidden jewels in the repertoire. While I am familiar with such pieces as the moody, dreamy "Beau Soir" from Debussy and the Sonate Posthume from Ravel, there's so much here to discover.

Performed by Anders Kjellberg Nilsson on violin and Svienung Bjelland an piano, these duos are beautifully captured in the now-familiar Sofienberg Church in Norway. I say familiar since this venue has been perhaps the most common choice for Morten--the church is able to contribute all of the warmth and decay you'd expect from a Norwegian church, and yet it's able to convey loads of detail. For most of you involved in high-end audio, that's become the new standard of perfection. You want to be romanced and comforted (and sometimes challenged with careful helpings of dissonance) with Ravel and Debussy, but you want to hear everything that's going on in the recording as well. My love of Debussy, after all, is defined by the almost otherworldly tone and timbre to his compositions. Ravel, who acts as a bridge between Debussy's lyricism and the tonal shifts that would arrive after the turn of the century, also seeks to preserve that distinct French charm. Trace of Impressions excels at preserving those dreamlike qualities while providing a more modern focus and purity.

On a personal note, I had this recording at the ready as my parents came to visit my sound room in Colorado for the first time. Both of them are huge Debussy fans and have a profound love for "Clair de Lune"--so much so that they recently took me out for dinner at a steakhouse in Ouray and asked me to request this song from the pianist in the dining room. It made the celebration even more special for them. I had this disc playing when they walked into the door, and even though I doubt they were familiar with the piece that was playing, they both asked "Debussy"? They're not seasoned classical music fans, but they immediately made the emotional connection.

What this means is this: if you love Debussy and Ravel, this recording will make you melt.

According to the liner notes, the selections here are offered as proof of the influence of impressionist paintings on the music of both composers, mated with the "dynamic" Far East influences of the time. 2L recordings always seek to inform and educate the listener in complex and entertaining ways, and it's always a unique challenge to confirm these observations. So you get a gorgeous recording full of some of the most bewitching music ever composed--I will be playing this at the Rocky Mountain Audio Fest next month--and you can fine-tune your classical music knowledge as well. This harkens back to the great classical recordings of the late '50s and early '60s, where copious liner notes in very small print completely dominated the back covers of LPs. 2L usually offers this information in a more succinct and attractive manner--the website is an especially helpful accessory in this regard--but you will listen and you will feel like a better person afterward.

Jan Gunnar Hoff's Living on 2L Recordings Blu-Ray Audio and SACD

If you loved 2L Recordings' Quiet Winter Night as much as I did, then you probably already know Jan Gunnar Hoff. A well-known bandleader, composer and jazz artist in his native Norway, Hoff acted as the leader, arranger and pianist in that warm, romantic ensemble recording. The relative success of that album--it was nominated for a Grammy--prompted 2L to feature Hoff in his first solo recording, a series of piano pieces titled Living. Hoff's compositions, which are often called "meditative and expressive," are notably accessible when compared to other recent entries in the 2L catalog; along with QWN, this may be the lone recording by Morten Lindberg that will inspire you to listen at night, in front of a fireplace, preferrably with someone you love.

2L has already released a recording of piano improvisations within the last year or so from fellow Norwegian composer Ola Gjeilo. During casual listening, the seriousness of the music in that recording can easily be lost--its somewhat cheery disposition might persuade you that you're hearing something that can be described as "easy listening." It's only when you sit down and take the time with Ojeilo's compositions that you notice the unsettling undercurrents that add a more somber and reflective layer. Living, on the other hand, grabs your attention almost immediately. While richly melodic and soothing, Hoff's compositions are more rooted in the classical piano repertoire and are more emotionally direct.

Then again, much of the music on Living seems more structured and purposeful because these aren't necessarily improvisations. "Brytning," for example, was originally written for a music festival back in 1992, and "A eg veit meg eit land" is a Norwegian anthem that was originally composed by Elias Blix back in 1896. Hoff does attribute "Karlygash" to 20th century Kazakh composer Akhmet Zhubanov, but is quick to say that his version is "freely interpreted." Listening to the lush, flowing, impassioned performances on Living, it's easy to imagine that they are emanating deep from within his soul, and it's equally easy to assume that another take on any of these tracks would yield tremendous differences in the outcome.



The most striking aspect of this recording is the incredible decay of the piano in the Sofienberg Church. There's a uniquely visceral impact to the space between the notes, almost as if you're embracing the lid of the piano as Hoff plays and you can feel the vibrations of wood and hammered strings. Morten achieved this by placing the microphones at some distance from the piano, allowing the interior of the church to enrich the presentation. A small but noticeable touch, visible in the photos in the enclosed booklet, is the placement of firewood under the piano itself. I wonder what this achieved, and how it contributed to the recording. Morten Lindberg is very much at the cutting edge of recording techniques these days, and it's astonishing to think he resorted to such an ancient solution to bring out the natural timbre of this piano.

Then again, the 2L recordings are so magnificent in their sonic consistency and ingenuity that I won't be surprised when random fireplace logs start appearing in audiophile's listening rooms throughout the world. Highly recommended--the recording, not the logs.

2L Recordings' Hommage a Grieg on Blu-ray Audio and CD/SACD Hybrid

A great recording of a piano duo should do one thing above all others, and that's clearly detailing the interplay between the two instruments and pianists. What makes the new 2L recording Hommage a Grieg so fascinating is that the Dena Piano Duo actually consists of a pianist, Tina Margareta Nilssen, and her former music professor, Heide Gortz of the Berlin University of the Arts. I'm not going to tell you that Morten Lindberg of 2L has captured this recording so accurately that you can hear the teacher leading the student through these pieces, or the student blossoming on her own and the teacher standing back approvingly and proclaiming, "Alas, the student has become the teacher," or some nonsense like that. What knowledge of this special relationship does add, however, is a uniquely human touch. As we listen to two accomplished pianists, a generation apart, we hear two human beings who have clearly spent a lot of time playing together and undoubtedly enjoy it beyond all measure.

Hommage a Grieg is, in true 2L form, a homage with a twist. While the connection in The Schubert Connection I recently reviewed is complex and ultimately becomes a somewhat rhetorical exercise, the links between these pieces from Johannes Brahms, Wolfgang Plagge, Terje Bjorklund and Camille Saint-Saens exhibit a more simple theme--despite the fact that there isn't a Grieg tune on the entire album. Brahms and Saint-Saens were friends of Edvard Grieg, and Grieg in turn used what he learned from his two colleagues as inspirations that can be deduced--by trained ears--from the selected pieces (Variations on a Theme by Joseph Hayden for two pianos, op. 56b and Variations on a Theme by Beethoven for two pianos, op. 35, respectively). These classic pieces bracket two commissioned works by modern Norwegian composers Plagge and Bjorklund that are direct tributes to Grieg. While the later pieces are notably distinct in style compared to the Brahms and the Saint-Saens, the ebb and flow of the entire program is consistently engaging.

Sonically, this recording is no less impressive than anything in the 2L catalog. The aforementioned interplay between the two pianos is thoroughly engaging; these two women are not situated at opposite ends of a stage but pushed rather close together to form an intriguing where-I-end-and-you-begin aesthetic. I recently mentioned a comment I heard from Bob Clarke of Profundo when we discussed audiophiles' fondness for female voices. He prefers a grand piano recording in order to judge a sound system. As I listened to Hommage a Grieg, I kept thinking about Bob's comment and subsequently reduced it to "What's better than a grand piano? Two grand pianos!" If the dynamic range of a single grand piano gets your motor running, double that and you'll know why I find this recording so novel and exciting.



I took a quick survey of my LP collection, which is predominantly classical, and I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I couldn't find another recording of a piano duo. As I said to myself, "That should be remedied immediately," I noticed something written on the cover of Hommage. It said: Vol. III. Indeed, this is the third Dena Piano Duo recording that 2L has released: Vol. I and Vol.II both feature a Mozart and Grieg program. These are obviously worth investigating--for the lovely, rich and dynamic sound of two pianos recorded in yet another glorious Norwegian church, and for the challenging themes that will test your knowledge of classical composition.

Eivind Buene's Possible Cities/Essential Landscapes on Blu-Ray Audio, CD and SACD

My own journey through classical music followed the proper chronological order. I started with Vivaldi, Bach and Boccherini in college, got caught up in the Mozart craze when Amadeus came out in 1984, skipped completely over Beethoven and Schubert and was deeply into Prokofiev, Rachmaninoff and Shostakovich by the time Reagan left office. By the end of the '80s, I was confronted with the prospect of following those dark, atonal charms of Schoenberg, Bartok and Berg before I stepped back, exhausted, and let my mind wander and relax with the minimalism of Glass, Nyman and Arvo Part (especially Arvo, who understands the secrets of the universe).

But the single piece of modern music that had the greatest impact on me was Kevin Volans' modest and relatively brief White Man Sleeps. The final movement is novel because the conventional string quartet become so guttural and percussive, and therefore so unconventional. The instruments sound like hornets circling a fallen nest, menacing and swirling and trying to figure the next step. That piece showed me how far the boundaries of so-called "classical music" could be stretched. It's been twenty-five years since I first heard that piece, and nothing has sounded that strikingly innovative since--until Eivind Buene's Possible Cities/Essential Landscapes.

That bold recommendation comes with a plethora of caveats. This is supremely adventurous modern music that will probably appeal to a very narrow range of music lovers; you will not sit back and relax and listen to it with a langorous grin on your face. It's edgy, violent and startling, and you will jump out of your seat at least once. Buene (pictured below) has composed this music with the intention of capturing images of urban decay, stark industrial architecture, chaos and the ultimate surrender to organic forces. I can easily imagine hearing this music while walking through the ruins of an industrial city in the middle of the night, alone, fear rising up through my legs and into my gut. When I hear the slow, agitated bend of the notes played by the string section, I can almost see the rats running along the power lines. When the percussion strikes loudly and suddenly, I imagine rocks being thrown through the windows of an old deserted factory. Maybe it's me, accidentally knocking over some relic that crashes onto the ground, reminding me that I shouldn't be there. If I had composed Possible Cities/Essential Landscapes, I probably would have called it Places You Shouldn't Go at Night by Yourself.

I've made this music sound joyless, frightening, inaccessible and maybe even a tad annoying, but it's actually exhilarating in many ways. Because it's from 2L Recordings in Norway, it sounds spectacular. As performed by Cikada, a ten-member Norwegian ensemble conducted by Christian Eggen, PC/EL is an incredibly detailed recording that will allow you to easily decipher the individual instruments on the stage and how they interact with one another. This level of musical fidelity is absolutely essential to the interactive feeling you'll have while listening. Ten minutes in, you'll be looking over your shoulder to see who's following you. This is a challenging musical piece, and many of you will not get through it. But for those who are constantly searching for the envelope's edge, this will be an exciting, agitating, nerve-wracking and occasionally lyrical experience--and you can also use it to get those last stubborn houseguests to finally go home.

One more note: I've been admiring 2L Recordings and their commitment to delivering truly unique titles that focus on amazing sound quality and exceptional value. Well, Morten Lindberg has upped the value a notch by including an SACD/CD hybrid disc with the Blu-ray disc. I pulled out the rather hefty booklet from the case, and lo and behold there was another disc beneath it! I then went through all of the previous 2L Blu-rays to see if they all had a hidden disc and only one--Ola Gjeilo's Piano Improvisations--had it. (The upcoming David and Bathsheba also has the bonus disc.) That allows me to hear these incredible recordings on my high-quality CD player as opposed to the cheap Samsung Blu-ray player--and yes, the CD rules and yes, it's an unfair comparison. But it's much easier to make the jump to a new digital format such as Blu-ray audio when companies such as 2L give you this many choices.

The Complete Piano Works of Thomas D. A. Tellefsen on 2L Recordings Blu-Ray Audio

Remember when CDs were in their infancy, and one of the great selling points of this new format was the amount of music you could cram onto one disc? A story circulated back then that you could put 69 or 70 minutes' worth of music on a single compact disc, and that particular number was chosen so that Beethoven's Symphony No.9 wouldn't require a 2-CD set. To this day I still hear music lovers claim they don't like LPs because they don't want to get up every twenty minutes to flip the record. Lazy-ass mofo jokes aside, there is an incredible appeal to music formats that play and play and play. That's why some of us still listen to local FM radio stations while working on the Times crossword puzzle on quiet, rainy Sunday afternoons. That explains why we are so intrigued with expansive iTunes playlists and giant music servers with terrabyte hard drives. It explains the whole silly encore ritual at the end of every live musical performance--if we just stand here and clap long enough, maybe they'll come back out and play five or six more songs! We just don't want the music to stop. It's a bummer when it does.

Well, I have some news for you. I was listening to yet another Blu-ray Audio disc from 2L Recordings of Norway, Thomas D. A. Tellefsen--Complete Piano Works, and after a while I noticed something strange. The music just kept playing, hour after hour. At first I thought I had hit the repeat button, even though each solo piano piece sounded new and fresh. I picked up the Blu-ray case and there it was, printed right on the back: "3 hours and 18 minutes of music on 1 disc." That's a lot of music. And, in essence, it's another important reason why Blu-ray audio should be a competitive music format in 2012.

It certainly makes sense to use a digital format originally designed for movies as a convenient, compact way to store huge chunks of music. Let's face it--box sets are for wacky, obsessive collectors. For most of us, space is at a premium. We don't want our music collections taking over an entire room, much less our entire house. That's why so many of us are ripping our entire CD collections to our computers and selling all of our discs on eBay. We want our listening rooms to look like the ads in high-end audio magazines...a pair of speakers, an amp, a MacBook and a chair from IKEA. That's it. Blu-ray audio is a magnificent compromise for people who still love physical formats--like me--yet are starting to wonder how they're going to contain their ever-expanding music collections.

None of this would matter, however, if the content and the sound quality weren't up to par. This is 2L, after all, and Morten Lindberg is certainly on the cutting edge when it comes to exploring the sonic potential of the hi-rez formats--including vinyl (heh heh). Lindberg recorded Norwegian pianist Jorgen Larsen at the Ringve Museum in Trondheim, Norway, and as usual he captures the essence of the space with unusual precision. So far, most of the 2L recordings I have heard were recorded in Norwegian churches, and I immediately noticed that the Tellefsen recordings sounded closer, more intimate and within in a slightly smaller space. The cavernous qualities of the churches were replaced with something tighter and more streamlined, although the space still provides a wealth of air and transient decay.

I've yet to address either the pianist or the composer; I'm reluctant to admit that I'm a stranger to both. Tellefsen was a mid-19th century composer who was a friend and contemporary of Chopin, and you can hear some of Chopin's rolling flourishes throughout the music, albeit with a much firmer hand. I also find Tellefsen to be more upbeat than many Scandinavian composers I admire, although Colleen did pop in once or twice to comment on the "sad music" coming from the listening room. Jorgen Larsen, who has deep connections to the Trondheim music scene in Norway, is famous for premiering important new works from Norwegian composers. He is a confident, relaxed pianist whose interpretations are imbued with composure and knowledge.

The sound quality, of course, is superb. Even with the new modest Samsung Blu-ray player in the role of the Weak Link in the Chain, I am once again astonished by the sweetness of the treble and the depth of the decay. I'm also starting to get a strong feel for the lower bass capabilities of Blu-ray audio, even with a solo piano recording such as this. Blu-ray seems to capture the low frequency information that accompanies the sheer movement of air within a space almost as well as analog recordings, and much better than redbook CD. How much of this is due to the format, and how much is due to Morton Lindberg's recording prowess? I'll be able to answer that with more certainty now that I have two of 2L's titles--Souvenir and Quiet Winter Night--on both LP and Blu-ray Audio. I can't wait to sit down and perform some real comparisons, although a couple of people have informed me that the two formats sound surprisingly similar. We shall see.

Further Adventures in Blu-Ray Audio: Ola Gjeilo's Piano Improvisations from 2L Recordings

Morton Lindberg of 2L Recordings in Norway has been sending me quite a few of his new releases on the Blu-ray Audio format, and that has presented me with a dilemma. When I received my first Blu-ray audio disc for review, Patricia Barber's Modern Cool (which you can read here), I had to figure out how I was going to play a Blu-ray disc. I didn't have a player per se, but I realized that I did have a Blu-ray transport built into my laptop. All I needed was an outboard DAC--which I no longer had. The Wavelength DAC I used last year for my Blue Computer Solutions music server project was on loan, and I had already returned it. All I had left was a Sound Blaster external sound card, which offered decent sound quality (roughly the equivalent of a mid-fi Denon CD/DVD player I had on hand), but nothing approaching the musical beauty of the tubed Wavelength.

I was all set to wait for the new Unison Research outboard DAC that's scheduled to appear soon, but a delay in manufacturing has put that product on the back burner for a few more months. So the last handful of Blu-ray Audio discs I've reviewed have been performed on the laptop/sound card combination, hardly an optimal solution sound-wise. Since my brother Mat, my partner in Blue Computer Solutions, has been borrowing the Sound Blaster to continue work on his music server, I've been struggling to find a way to listen to all of these new Blu-ray discs. I've been looking at solutions such as the Oppo BDP-95 univeral player, which plays just about every optical disc known to mankind, but I balked at spending a grand just to hear a format I may or may not embrace.

Finally, Mat offered an intriguing compromise: "Why don't you just go down to Wal-Mart and buy a cheap Blu-ray player? You can get one for like $59." I had no idea Blu-ray player prices had sunk so low, so I started shopping around a found a cheap Panasonic player at the local Target for $75. It was the last one they had in stock. I took it home, plugged it in...and nothing happened. No power. I returned it for a full refund and pondered my next step. While grocery shopping at my local H-E-B, I checked out their electronics section and found a modest little Samsung on sale for $68.

Again, I took it home and struggled with getting it to work. The LED display kept saying "SETUP," and evidently I needed to hook the player up to a monitor so that I could view the various menus and get everything set up for simple audio playback. I longed for the days when you bought a CD player, inserted a disc and started listening to music. And unlike the Panasonic player, the Samsung didn't even include batteries for the remote, which was needed to program the player. I was getting frustrated with my Blu-ray adventure.

In my eight years in the telecommunications industry, we had something we called PFM. The P stood for "pure," the M stood for "magic" and I'll let you figure out what the F stands for. We used this term whenever we were troubleshooting and everything just started working right out of the clear blue for no particular reason. Well, after three tries of turning the player off and on, pressing play and letting the disc initialize (which takes a lot longer on a Blu-Ray player than on a garden-variety CD player), music starting flowing into the room.

The disc I had inserted was Ola Gjeilo's Piano Improvisations, something Morton Lindberg had sent to me at least a couple of months ago. I didn't have an immediate point of reference for the overall sound quality, so I couldn't tell you whether or not the Samsung player was better, worse or equal to my old Wavelength/laptop set-up. But I did notice that Ola Gjeilo's piano sounded quiet, smooth and very relaxed, all the usual earmarks of high-quality, hi-rez digital audio. This soothing, easy-going sound didn't obscure detail, either; all of the wonderful decay of Gjeilo's singular notes were preserved, and while the placement of the piano was set far back into the soundstage, I could still hear all of the spatial cues from the recording venue (the Sofienberg Church in Oslo, Norway.)

Mr. Gjeilo, a young Norwegian pianist who began his composition studies at Julliard in 2001, calls Piano Improvistaions a sequel to his 2007 2L recording Stone Rose and notes that "improvisation is where my heart is." While many such improvisations can have the impression of riding along the edge of creativity, susceptible to trains of thought that can derail musical coherence, Gjeilo keeps these selections unusually tight and organized. It's hard to believe that these pieces weren't carefully orchestrated in advance. He judiciously avoids dissonance and concentrates on studied musical beauty that prizes melody, imagery and solace. I first listened to this generous 2-disc set on a rare rainy Sunday afternoon in Central Texas, and it was the perfect companion.

The sound quality is nothing short of superb, as I expect of Morton Lindberg and 2L, and is enhanced by the majestic Steinway Model D that Gjeilo used for this recording. "It's the best grand piano I have ever experienced," he says in the liner notes. "Just incredible." All of these serendipitous factors--the piano, the extraordinary acoustics of the church, and Morton's visionary skills as a recording engineer and producer--add to one of the most worthwhile solo piano recordings I own.

As far as my technical compromises go in terms of this new and somewhat exciting digital format, I look forward to making improvements to my playback equipment so that I can do justice to these recordings. Morton has enabled me to make more cautious and informative comparisons in the future by supplying me with both the LP and Blu-ray versions of at least a couple of his new titles. Since my analog playback capabilities have increased exponentially with the addition of the Transfiguration Phoenix cartridge and the PureAudio Vinyl phono preamplifier, two of the finest pieces in their respective categories that I've ever used, I can hopefully add more insight into the sheer genius of the 2L recordings. Until then, this $68 Samsung Blu-ray player ain't half-bad.