| July 1, 2010
EAR 890 Stereo
Amplifier
 The phrase "a man for all seasons" comes from
an assessment by Robert Whittington of his friend Sir Thomas More
(1478-1535), Chancellor of England, author of
Utopia,
and perhaps the most famous hardhead in history. Whittington said,
"More is a man of an angel’s wit and singular learning. I know not
his fellow. For where is the man of that gentleness, lowliness and
affability? And, as time requireth, a man of marvelous mirth and
pastimes, and sometime of as sad gravity. A man for all seasons."
Appointed to the highest position of juridical
authority in England, More, because of conscience, refused to
sanction King Henry VIII’s plan to divorce his first wife, the aging
Catherine of Aragon, who in 24 years of marriage had borne him a
single daughter and no sons, so that Henry could marry Anne Boleyn,
the sister of his former mistress and, presumably, as fertile as she
was fetching. More would not change his mind despite the counsel of
his peers; like him, they were churchmen, but unlike him, they
valued life over principle, and urged More to bow to political
pressure, both popular and kingly. But More remained steadfast, held
out for principle, and, in the end, Henry VIII had him beheaded.
British writer Robert Bolt heroicized More in his 1960 play
A Man
for All Seasons, and the phrase
entered popular American speech after the release of the film
version in 1966, which won that year’s Oscars for Best Picture, Best
Director, Best Actor, Best Screenplay, Best Cinematography, and Best
Costumes. So when we use the phrase to compliment an individual’s
well-rounded qualities, or adapt it to praise a product’s myriad
capabilities, do we forget the expression’s origin in describing a
man of principle?
Tim de Paravicini doesn’t, I think -- he’s
stuck to his principles for decades. He hatched them as a pre-teen
hobbyist in his native South Africa, honed them as a member of the
famed Luxman engineering team in Japan (where his immediate
supervisor was Atasushi Miura, who later founded Air Tight), and
perfected them as chief engineer and owner of Esoteric Audio
Research, Ltd., in the UK. De Paravicini is, indeed, a man for all
seasons: principled about circuit design and design improvement, not
compromising according to trend, or bowing to popular pressure or
the influence of a sovereign. Not only that, his EAR 890 stereo
amplifier, during my time with it, performed capably with three
different preamplifiers and phono stages, consistently producing a
lovely sound that was dynamic, timbrally rich, and, more often than
not, satisfying in terms of bass and slam. Could it be an amp for
all seasons?
Description and operation
EAR USA shipped the EAR 890 ($7595)
double-boxed -- the outer carton was so big my arms wouldn’t wrap
around it, though the amp itself is only 16"W x 7"H x 16"L.
Essentially, the EAR 890 is a thick, 60-pound square as dense as a
dark star, with one black tube cage on each side, and chrome-plated
almost everywhere else: the two output transformers behind the
cages, the power-supply transformer amidships at the front, and the
brass faceplate bearing the
E.A.R.,
EAR 890, and
dP
logos. The Power pushbutton -- a backlit bit of orange plastic in
the faceplate’s lower right corner -- is about the only thing
visible that
isn’t chromed
or black.
The EAR 890 outputs 70Wpc in stereo mode or
140Wpc in bridged mode (i.e.,
when used as one of a pair of monoblocks). Each channel uses a 6AQ8
dual-triode tube as a differential pair, working with a 12AX7
dual-triode. The 890’s input impedance is a fairly common 47k ohms,
indicating good compatibility with a range of preamps. The EAR 890
was originally designed to use four KT90 output tubes per channel in
parallel push-pull, but my review sample came equipped with four SED
Winged "C" 6550Cs per side. I’d heard the 890 with the EH KT90s and thought it
sounded more incisive and extended. With the 6550Cs, the sound was
perhaps smoother and slightly softer, with a touch more bloom. But
regardless of type of output tube, the auto-biasing 890 runs in
uncompromised class-A -- it got so hot that I had to lay a cloth
across the front transformer cap to protect the underside of my bare
arm when I reached for the volume pots on the rear panel.
Yes, there are two independent volume controls
on the rear, one for each channel; it’s possible to use the EAR 890
without a preamp, and also to adjust the channel balance. Those
volume pots caused me some trouble. Often, after changing preamps
and/or interconnects -- which I did frequently, before settling on
the configuration I liked best -- I found I’d inadvertently rotated
the pots slightly and thrown off the channel balance. This was
vexing, but I got over it once I realized how useful the controls
were for trimming one channel down to improve the balance when
playing mono LPs.
At the rear, on a shallow horizontal shelf
behind the two output transformers, are the two sets of binding
posts, and taps for 4, 8, and 16 ohms. Each set of posts is
accompanied by a pair of toggle switches for selecting the RCA or
XLR inputs. I used the 8-ohm taps and RCA inputs exclusively.
I quite liked that the speaker taps were
vertical and upward-facing, rather than the usual horizontal,
rear-facing orientation. This permitted the straight horizontal
insertion of my speaker cables’ spades, which decreased the stress
on the very friable tellurium-copper spades and on the cables
themselves, and required little or no cable drape. However, those
who use banana-terminated cables might find this feature eccentric
and bothersome.
On the rear panel proper, tidier for the
absence of binding posts, are two XLR inputs, two RCA inputs, the
volume controls, an IEC inlet, and a pop-open fuse container. The
input jacks are bunched toward the middle, so you can easily reach
them to change ICs without having to pull the amp out of your rack.
At first I’d contemplated replacing the EAR
890’s output tubes. But after discussing this with Dan Meinwald of
EAR USA and learning how complicated this is -- it entails
unscrewing the cages from above and unbolting them from below while
somehow securing the circuit boards (the bolts go through them,
too), all while the amp is resting on its side -- I decided this
wasn’t something anyone with only two hands could do.
One of the 890’s annoying quirks is that its
rubberized feet are relatively short, and don’t raise the amp quite
enough to keep it from squashing my fingers when I placed it on the
rack. The low chassis clearance could create another problem in
installation or removal; even when only slightly tipped, the amp’s
front or rear undercarriage could easily scrape the edges of your
shelf or stand.
The five-page owner’s manual straightforwardly
explains unpacking the EAR 890 and hooking it up to speaker cables
and interconnects, its XLR and RCA inputs, bridge-mode operation,
biamping, and general maintenance. Also included are a spec sheet
and a useful schematic of the circuit.
System
My system consists of a Cary CD 303/300 CD
player; a TW-Acustic Raven Two turntable with Tri-Planar Ultimate
Mk.VII tonearm and Zyx Airy 3 moving-coil cartridge (0.24mV output);
an Ortofon RS-309D 12" tonearm with Ortofon SPU GM Mono Mark II
cartridge (3mV); a Herron VTPH-2 phono stage; a deHavilland Mercury
3 line stage;
EAR 868 and VAC Renaissance Mk.III preamplifiers (both
in for review); deHavilland KE50A monoblocks (40W, class-A); a
solid-state Aragon 8008-ST stereo amp (200Wpc); and Von Schweikert
VR5 HSE loudspeakers (91dB/6 ohms). For this review, I used Cardas
Clear, Auditorium 23, and Verbatim interconnects (all RCA), and
Verbatim speaker cables with jumpers.
Balanced Power Technology’s
Clean
Power
Center
passive line conditioner fed the phono stage and preamps, and the
Cary CD player went straight into the wall with a Fusion Audio
Predator power cord. The power amps were plugged into an Isoclean
104 II power strip with Cardas Golden Reference AC cords, the strip
itself plugged into the wall with another Golden Reference. Other
power cords were Thor Red, Fusion Audio Impulse, and Harmonix XDC
Studio Master. I have two dedicated 15A lines, both with Oyaide R1
duplex outlets. I used PS Audio Critical Link fuses in the Cary
player and the deHavilland preamp and mono amps.
My equipment rack is a five-shelf Box Furniture
stand made of lightly finished sapele. I used no further isolation
other than the various components’ stock feet.
My listening room is treated with sound panels
from Acoustic Sciences Corporation; bookshelves line the right wall,
shelves of LPs the left. My study/listening room is fairly small:
15’L x 12’W x 8.5’H. I listened both in the nearfield, and on a
couch about 9’ away from the plane described by the speakers’
baffles.
Although the 890 sounded fine with each of the
preamps mentioned, I mainly listened to it driven by my reference
deHavilland Mercury 3 line stage. For vinyl, I used the three phono
stages equally: the standalone Herron, and the ones built into the
VAC and EAR preamps. The deHavilland Mercury 3, used as both a line
stage and in combination with the Herron VTPH-2 phono stage, had a
finesse and airiness with vocal music that I loved, while the EAR
868 had robustness, a dense saturation of tone, and lots of drive.
The VAC Renaissance Mk.III sounded more open than the EAR 868,
though not quite as robust, and with a bit more finesse and
definition at the frequency extremes.
Listening
Right from the start, the EAR 890 proved
capable of a terrific punch and midrange articulation that made it
able to handle complex and dynamic music. Debussy’s
La Mer,
as performed by Herbert von Karajan
and the Berlin Philharmonic (CD, Deutsche Grammophon 477 7161), can
be difficult for many systems -- it’s full of sweet, lyric passages,
as well as others that demand instant shifts from delicacy to full
orchestral bombast within a few notes. The first movement,
De
l’aube à midi sur la mer,
contains a number of balletic
swerves and musical pirouettes, then a passage featuring harp,
strings, mordant horns, and a lyrical clarinet, giving way to a
violin solo with lushness and sensitivity. Later come small string
crescendos, like splashes against a shorebreak, that quickly ramp up
to large, imperious orchestral
tuttis
that are forceful, foreboding, and dark. The EAR 890 handled all of
these without a hitch, producing a soundstage that spread between
the speakers and had a pleasing depth as well.
Also remarkable was how the EAR 890 rendered
pure string sound, whether of a solo violin or of an orchestral
violin section. Playing Maxim Vengerov’s recording of the Beethoven
Violin Concerto, with Mstislav Rostropovich conducting the London
Symphony (CD, EMI Classics 3 36403 2), I heard a rich and satisfying
orchestral
thrum that
signified the EAR’s authority over a kind of music that can easily
reduce some electronic gear to incoherence. At the beginning of the
first movement,
Allegro ma non troppo,
Vengerov’s violin sounded sweet and
lyric, the woodwinds beautifully organic in tone, and the full
orchestra sounded loveliest and most impressive in the difficult but
heart-swelling crescendos. The first violins then introduce the
theme, which requires an amp to demonstrate delicacy, precision, and
clarity -- all of which the EAR 890 did. The cadenza -- Vengerov
performs his own -- then demands even more refinement, and the 890
distinctly rendered the myriad timbres of his sound. I heard how
Vengerov’s aggressive bowing of the low strings near the bridge
glided over to the suppler high strings, the sound then filling with
a natural sweetness. The 890 demonstrated superb microdynamics and
an ability to render the minute tonal distinctions of Vengerov’s
performance, capturing a sort of "brushstroke" effect: how a
violinist shapes a note with bowing and vibrato to accentuate a fat
attack that then gives way to painting in a sweet midrange, then
trails off in a somewhat drier, lingering decay. The 890 followed
with uncanny accuracy the changing tremolos and pitches of
Vengerov’s playing -- it was the best I’ve ever heard this recording
sound.
I was consistently impressed with the EAR 890’s
articulate midrange. Paquito d’Rivera’s
Brazilian Dreams (CD, MCG Jazz 1010)
brings together a mellow septet/octet and four singers, the New York
Voices, who blend in a recording remarkable for its liveliness and
pure, rich tones. Listening to "Manha de Carnival/Gentle Rain," I
heard a chorus of tenor sax, trumpet, and trombone in which each
instrument was clear and distinct, and yet together in terms of
timing and harmonic tapestry. The fanfares and bursts were spot on,
d’Rivera’s burnished alto sax sounding appropriately out front. Jay
Ashby’s trombone solo was softly explosive, while d’Rivera’s
clarinet gave the tune its uppermost register of pleasingly pure and
piercing reed notes. Claudio Roditi’s trumpet, too, was just a shade
forward of the horn section; I could hear it distinctly harmonizing
with the alto sax in one musical line as the tenor sax and trombone
together made up another line. The ease with which I could hear and
make these distinctions in these somewhat complex passages attested
to the EAR’s nimbleness and refinement.
The EAR 890 was presented a different kind of
midrange tapestry by The Clerks’ Group singing Johannes Ockeghem’s
Missa Seleument (CD, Gaudeamus CD
GAU 168). In this recording of Renaissance polyphony, the group’s
nine voices create the original, pre-Phil Spector "wall of sound."
The piece proceeds via many stops and starts in the four vocal lines
(soprano, alto, tenor, bass), which are sometimes distinct and at
other times blended -- it’s an intricate challenge to an amp’s sonic
dexterity and tonal palette. The EAR was completely up to it, and
was particularly impressive in the crescendos, providing adequate
definition, maintaining tonal saturation throughout, and portraying
the voices as those of nine individual singers, all while
reproducing a rich complex of harmonics, a fine soundstage of good
depth, and precise imaging of the choir spread out between the
speakers.
Schooled by its notable way of rendering
Vengerov’s violin, I began listening more closely to what the EAR
890 was doing with midrange transients. I found it superior in
sustaining a note through a longer bloom and decay than I’d heard
before with my reference amps, the otherwise lovely and fulsome
deHavilland KE50A monoblocks. I noticed this particularly with the
Modern Jazz Quartet’s
At Music
Inn, Vol.2 (CD, Atlantic Jazz
1299-2). In "Yardbird Suite," Milt Jackson’s vibes had a
crystalline, bell-like ring that was soft on the attack, then
swelled into a rich, reverberant blush of harmonics that hung in the
air in noticeably sustained notes that then fell away slowly, back
into the music’s flow. This exquisite quality was also evident with
Ingrid Fliter’s piano on her disc of solo works by Chopin (CD, EMI
Classics 5 14899 2). There is a Mozartean lyricism of melody in the
first movement,
Allegro maestoso,
of Piano Sonata 3, that Fliter well
captures. The sweet notes of her sweeping arpeggios and delicate
trills lingered momentarily in the air, as they might in a live
performance. There was also the satisfying sense of the bass notes
pulsing as an undercurrent -- intermittent, enveloping, then lapping
within the chordal playing in an inconstant ebb and flow. The EAR
890 increased the sensuality of the music and my appreciation for
it.
But what about the EAR’s bass? What was it like with rock and blues?
No problem. When I played Neil Young and Crazy
Horse’s
Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere
(CD, Reprise 2282-2) and Eric Clapton’s
From the
Cradle (CD, Reprise 45735-2), the
EAR 890 showed great bass responsiveness, extension, and timing.
Furthermore, Young’s electric guitar in "Down by the River" sounded
especially crisp and raw, and Billy Talbot’s Fender bass was tight
and controlled. There wasn’t as much
impact
to the bass as with my solid-state Aragon
8008-ST amp (200Wpc, 8 ohms), but it was nonetheless respectable.
Likewise with Clapton’s "Blues Before Sunrise": the bass was fulsome
and grinding, the kick drum punchy and snare
tight, all of it
merging in the mix with Clapton’s raunchy growl, his slide-guitar
solo providing screeching top notes. Again, the crash and thump of
it all wasn’t as strong as with the Aragon,
but no less did my feet tap and my head bob to the bluesy beat. I
then trotted out a recording of Stravinsky’s
Rite of
Spring with Valery Gergiev
conducting the Kirov Orchestra (CD, Philips 289 468 035-2). A
bass-drum stroke in the first section,
Augurs
of Spring, is as good a test for
bass slam as I have. Via the 890, that stroke’s impact was big,
full, and satisfying, if not quite as thrilling as with the
deHavilland KE50A monoblocks.
The EAR 890 reproduced LPs as if completely at
home, demonstrating all the fullness and organicism of the medium,
particularly in stereo; surprisingly, mono jazz LPs tended to sound
"hot." By contrast, when I listened to Duke Ellington’s
Ellington ’55 (Capitol SM11674),
Miles Davis’s
Miles Ahead
(Columbia CL 1041),
and Sarah Vaughan’s
In the
Land of Hi-Fi (Emarcy/Mercury
MG-36058) through my reference system of Herron VTPH-2 phono stage
and deHavilland’s Mercury 3 line stage and KE50A monoblocks, each
recording sounded well balanced. Using the 890 with the built-in
phono stage of the EAR 868 preamp, however, these same mono LPs
sounded much better, if still a touch forward.
Comparison and conclusion
At $7250/pair, my reference deHavilland KE50A
monoblocks are nearly the same price as the EAR 890 at $7595, and
their 40k ohm input impedance is comparable to the EAR’s 50k ohms.
In terms of output, however, at 40W, the KE50As have little more
than half the EAR’s power, so it’s arguable whether the comparison
is a straight one across the board. Still, the deHavillands sound
fuller and more balanced throughout the audioband than did the EAR
890, which excelled in the midrange. When I listened to The Clerks’
Group’s Ockeghem CD, the KE50As were more subtle and nuanced,
sounding more airy and spacious than the 890, with a bit more
top-end sparkle. With the Gergiev/Kirov
Rite of
Spring, the KE50As also produced far
more articulate
slam, rendering
that first big bass-drum stroke in the first section in three
distinct stages: the sound of the mallet striking the skin, then the
first resonant boom, and finally the rattling decay. But the EAR 890
surpassed the KE50As with a more articulate midrange, producing more
color and separation in the microtones of instruments, as
demonstrated by jazz and violin recordings.
The EAR 890 is a fine and worthy product.
Though its sound isn’t showy, and doesn’t immediately call attention
to itself with some striking yet eventually tiresome sonic
characteristic, the more I listened, the more its general
evenhandedness and superb midrange eventually worked on me an
alluringly sensuous magic. I realized I was absolutely enjoying the
music, swept along in both the thrill and the repose of its finer
tones. And the 890 can handle all sorts of music, both complex and
dense in textures, with complete aplomb, and sail through
dynamically demanding passages with ease, always producing a
pleasing saturation of tone. It has power and midrange subtlety,
it’s physically attractive, and it has interesting features: dual
volume controls, vertical-mount binding posts, RCA
and
XLR inputs, and it can be used as a stereo amp or as half of a pair
of bridged monoblocks. Built with fine fit and finish in England,
and a product of the duly deliberated engineering of electronics
wizard Tim de Paravicini, the EAR 890 is indeed an amp for all
seasons.
.
. . Garrett Hongo
garretth@soundstagenetwork.com
EAR 890 Tubed Stereo Amplifier
Price: $7595 USD.
Warranty: Five years parts and labor.
EAR USA
1087 E. Ridgewood Street
Long Beach,
CA 90807
Phone: (562) 422-4747
E-mail:
info@ear-usa.com
Website:
www.ear-usa.com
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