The show is over, and I am going back home, guys. Sitting on a train at Munich Central Station, which should depart any moment now for Hamburg, I am trying to gather my scattered thoughts.
This is the first time I have attempted to write on a train, but it is worth doing because the journey takes around 6.5 hours — plenty of time that would otherwise be lost. The three days I spent in Munich during the High End Show were rather intense in terms of impressions. Some of them were the result of planned visits, while others came from unexpected encounters that I am happy to share with you.
I had two whole days to spend in the MOC building, where the show was hosted, and I prepared a list of rooms I wanted to visit first in case time became an issue. In the end, I managed to visit almost all of the exhibitors, and I have to say that the sound quality — at least in terms of realistic reproduction of musical events — was, in most cases, disappointing.



I was entering rooms and immersing myself in the sound without looking for the source. Usually, by staring at the floor or a side wall, I let myself be fooled into thinking that real artists were playing, but it never happened.
The sound that came closest to creating the illusion of a real band performing was produced by the Harbeth Monitor 40.2 40th Anniversary loudspeakers, driven by the Magnum Dynalab MD-309 hybrid amplifier in the Input Audio room. This system managed to deliver an experience that was remarkably close to reality.
Of course, it also depends on the recordings being played, but when I entered this room, it was Billie Holiday’s Songs For Distingué Lovers that caught my attention — a natural Verve Living Sound Fidelity stereo recording from 1957, captured with a pair of tube microphones. This is exactly the kind of recording needed when evaluating a system’s ability to realistically portray a musical event.
Close-miked studio recordings with processed signals and multitrack mixing are, by nature, artificial and usually sound far from realistic. With such recordings, there is almost no chance of being fooled into believing that a real performance is taking place.

I had to jump onto another train after spending half an hour at Munich Central Station on a train that never departed because of a technical problem — one of the carriages had a door that failed to close, which was the reason the entire train to Hamburg was cancelled.
We were advised to move to the next train, which eventually arrived one hour later. I found a free seat next to a girl in the first carriage. She is almost asleep on my shoulder now.





As I mentioned, the Harbeth Monitor 40.2 were producing sound waves that, according to my perception, came closest to those generated by a real musical performance. The balance a loudspeaker has to maintain is extremely fragile, and every transducer tends to emphasise or attenuate certain aspects of the sound, making it a very difficult task to preserve the proportions captured by the microphone.
I believe this is the absolute peak of what Harbeth’s engineers have achieved by designing such a product. For me, these speakers stand out from all the others I had the chance to listen to — not because they have a perfect midrange, exceptionally articulated bass, or the most detailed treble, but because they manage to preserve the overall balance.
The reproduced event remains believable because nothing — or at least very little — is artificially emphasised or suppressed. The proportions between fundamental tones and their high-frequency harmonics, as well as the level of detail across the spectrum, remain intact, allowing the fragile ecosystem of the sound picture to be distorted as little as possible.
Another system that came very close to reality was the large Western Electric Mirrophonic from 1934 in the Silbatone room, but it belongs to a completely different category. I mean, loudspeakers standing more than two metres tall are designed for cinemas or concert halls rather than domestic environments.


I started the show with the rooms of Wolf von Langa and Thomas Mayer. Wolf von Langa was using his own field-coil loudspeakers together with amplification from Thomas Mayer. Thomas Mayer was using his own amplification with Azzolina loudspeakers.
Langa’s system impressed me with a very detailed and transparent soundstage, but the bass somehow lacked weight and definition.
I would not go into analysing why the reproduction in these rooms was not very convincing to me. I can only say that both systems failed to fool me, even when playing natural recordings. They can certainly sound good with suitable material.
I expected that in one of these rooms I would hear real artists performing, but there were none.


It is hard to maintain the balance, and it is a very fragile thing to reproduce something real with all its palpability and presence. But what about the essence, the emotions that a real performance evokes? If we can convey feelings without reproducing an exact copy of the recorded acoustic event, perhaps that would be enough.
After all, we all know that music can raise emotions even when listened to through a portable transistor radio.






The conductor checked my ticket and everything was fine. However, it turned out that the train I had boarded would be split into two parts at Hanover, with one section continuing to Oldenburg and the other continuing to Hamburg. I was sitting in the section that was supposed to go to Oldenburg, so I was advised to change carriages in Hanover.
An elderly woman with a slight form of dementia was sitting a few seats ahead of me. She did not speak any language familiar to me. A couple sitting nearby started listing the names of Middle Eastern countries, and it turned out that she was from Afghanistan.
The only word she kept repeating that made some sense to me was “Hamburg”, so I promised to help her transfer at Hanover. I feel sad seeing people in desperate situations fleeing from their wars, alone and at an advanced age.
In Hanover, I helped her find a seat in one of the carriages. I myself could not find one because the train was completely packed with people and luggage, so I made myself comfortable on the floor at the end of the carriage.
I felt good knowing that I had been able to help someone in need.
But let me jump back to the High End Show in Munich. As I said, the performance of the systems did not meet my expectations for a complex set of reasons, the main one being the exhibition space itself.
The MOC building is made of concrete and steel wrapped in glass, which is a rather poor combination when it comes to audio applications. One can also feel the rumble of low frequencies coming from neighbouring rooms and the constant level of noise entering through doors and adjacent walls.
In some rooms, there was also a lack of space, and heavy compromises had been made regarding room acoustics and system setup.
The rule of thirds claims that one-third of an audio system’s performance is determined by room acoustics, one-third by system setup, and another third by the equipment itself.
So what can you expect?
I am quite sure that many of the systems presented had great potential, which could hardly be evaluated under such poor conditions. Unless these kinds of shows are hosted in proper buildings made of audio-friendly materials such as bricks, mortar, and timber (like Frickelfest, for example), one cannot make an objective judgement.







The other thing that left me with a negative impression was the lack of competence demonstrated by some exhibitors and the general lack of knowledge and motivation to get the maximum out of those miserable conditions.
The most striking example was the Silbatone room, which hosted the large Western Electric Mirrophonic system. Being one of the largest rooms at the show, with two side walls made of glass, there was plenty of natural light. I could not understand why the artificial fluorescent lighting was switched on all the time.
I also could not understand why none of the windows were open when the air inside was so thick and unpleasant (there was a strong smell of cigarette smoke). I mean, under such poor conditions, I would not be able to enjoy music even if it were performed live.

Another example was the Input Audio room, which hosted the magnificent Harbeth Monitor 40.2-based system that I enjoyed so much on Friday.
When I came back on Saturday, hoping to have one final good listening session before leaving, I realised that something was wrong. Something was missing, and the magic had disappeared.
Although the highs and lows were still there, something was terribly wrong with the sound. The turntable was standing idle, but on Friday even the digitally streamed music had sounded extremely involving.
This time, the owner, Bernd Hömke, was not in the room. Instead, there was an English-speaking man, probably representing Harbeth. I was trying to figure out what could have caused the system to sound so dull and uninspiring.

Then I noticed the man approaching the equipment rack and picking up a palm-sized device that was obviously being used as the source through its mini stereo jack.
Wow, here is the reason why, I thought.
I assumed they were probably just using it to warm up the system before the real listening sessions, even though the show had opened more than three hours earlier.
After listening for another 15 minutes to this disappointing performance, hoping that he would soon switch to the proper source — if not analogue, then at least a proper digital one — I started losing patience.
It was my last day at the show, and after spending €12 on an entry ticket, I wanted to have at least one final enjoyable listening experience.
I approached the man and asked if he could change the source to something more suitable.
He looked at me with amusement and said that what was playing was one of the best sources they had.
I explained that I had nothing against the recording itself, but rather the hardware he was using, which appeared to be a mobile phone or something similar.
Then the man replied that it was not a mobile phone but an Astell&Kern portable player, which was supposed to be something completely different.
How different could it really be? It was still a portable audio player — an all-in-one device combining transport, digital-to-analogue converter, preamplifier, and God knows what else in a palm-sized enclosure.
Okay, I realised there was no point arguing with someone who believed that a portable player costing a fraction of the price of one of the loudspeakers could substitute for a proper transport and DAC.
It is simply strange when you consider how much incompetence can be involved in such a prestigious event as High End Munich.







I thought it was time to leave earlier than planned because of my growing dissatisfaction, when luck suddenly struck me. I was just strolling around when I stumbled upon none other than Srajan Ebaen — the founder of 6moons magazine and one of the most experienced people in the world of audio reproduction.

If someone knows anything about audio, it is Srajan. He is an absolute expert and connoisseur with enormous experience with audio equipment. It was hard to believe that the person standing in front of me was actually Srajan, so I took a look at his badge to make sure.
I did not manage to hide my excitement caused by this lucky encounter, and we started a conversation. My impression of him was very positive. Whenever I reflect on our short meeting, I cannot help but smile. He is a man with a bright aura — very positive, relaxed, and ready to spend time talking with a stranger.
I knew that he was originally from the Hamburg region, but I did not know that his brother still plays in the Hamburg Philharmonic Orchestra. This encounter turned out to be the culmination of my High End visit, so I decided it was time to leave and have lunch somewhere in the city before the train took me back to Hamburg.

I found a nice restaurant on Goethestrasse, surrounded by a green garden. The garden was empty, and I sat at a table beneath the green shade of the branches in the cool May afternoon.
I was having spinach gnocchi with tomato pesto and a glass of cold Augustiner beer, reflecting on the past few days. I had just finished my dish, relaxed and satisfied, when I heard music coming from inside the restaurant.
The first few notes of the violin, accompanied by piano coming through the open windows, were enough to tell me that it was a live performance.
No system could reproduce these small imperfections of a real musical instrument being played in a room, but I tried to imagine a system playing inside which was able to fool me.
In my imagination appeared the Harbeth Monitor 40.2-based system, which I think can come very close to reproducing the abundance of overtones a piano string emits after being struck by a wooden hammer, with all its weight and colour, and to the resonating timbre of a violin trying to escape the boundaries of the room.

I moved inside the almost empty restaurant, found a good spot, and ordered an espresso. I was lucky again to have a duo performing classical works with ability and passion in front of me. It was such a treat.
I simply stopped thinking and let myself be overwhelmed by the music, withdrawing into myself and allowing the sound to shape my emotions. It was such a relaxing experience, and I am very thankful for it.
One hour after midnight, I finally reached my destination. Home sweet home — it is nice to be here again.
Thank you for stopping by!