First things first. What’s missing from the Square Five that you get with the Cardinal? In essence it comes down to two things -- bandwidth and immediacy. The bigger (and far more expensive) speaker goes deeper at the bottom and higher at the top. It also has a responsiveness to input that gives it a more obvious sense of presence, a quality that makes it more accommodating of different amplifiers than the Square Five. The result is a low-frequency performance that breathes with an effortless clarity (doubtless helped by the sophisticated cabinet design) and a natural, unexaggerated air and space that are testament to the quality of the in-house Semisphere tweeter. It’s this easy, unforced and expansive coherence that makes the Cardinal so special.

Having listed what the Square Five lacks relative to its bigger, shinier and far more fancy brother, let’s now consider what it shares -- a list that is long and impressive.

Given that you’ll need to be picky with amplification and assuming that you choose an appropriate partner, what should you expect? The big thing here is the overall coherence and almost physical integrity of the sound. The Square Five sets up a substantial soundstage that is wide, deep and tall -- but more than that, it’s spatially convincing. You don’t sit in front of this speaker and marvel at the image, the transparency or the intra-instrumental space; you sit in front of it and marvel at the sense of performance. Dismantle the soundstage into its constituent parts and you’ll find it’s all present and correct. It’s just devoid of that hyped, spot-lit exaggeration that typifies speakers that "really image." Instead, the musical presentation is based on the absolute continuity and coherence across the speaker’s bandwidth. There are no obvious breaks or transitions between drivers, either tonally or in terms of dynamic response or dispersion. Those cues that normally betray crossover points or subtractive elements used to smooth a speaker’s response are absent here -- along with the crossover elements that cause them. The ability to tailor the driver roll-offs so precisely, along with the consistency of material used across all of the cone drivers in the speaker (and thus the majority of the musically important range) delivers a degree of continuity that would be worthy of comment in any speaker, let alone one as apparently complex yet affordable as this one.

It is the ability to shape each driver’s response with such precision, to fit it so precisely to purpose, that makes the Square Five possible. The result is not just tonally even and dynamically coherent; absent the discontinuities in harmonic color and musical energy that mar so many loudspeakers, the Square Fives achieve a level of musical expression and communication that belies their price and their prosaic, no-nonsense appearance. As plain and simple as this speaker looks, its musical abilities are anything but. Instead it brings a sophistication, nuance and substance to the musical event that makes for both instant engagement and long-term satisfaction.

The tumbling guitar riffs that cascade across the Cure’s "Push" (from The Head On The Door CD [Fiction 964 001-6]) have a substance, momentum and unstoppable, almost gravitational energy that sees them plummet across the soundstage, a sonic Niagra in front of those solid, solid drums. They may not make a case for the speaker’s subtlety, but they’ll pin you to the seat with sheer musical intent. For the gentler end of the artistic palette, look no further than Willie Nelson’s CD To All The Girls [Sony Legacy 887 65425862]. Eighteen duets, each with a different partner, it certainly tests a speaker’s ability to distinguish both individual voices and their expressive range. The Square Five easily identifies and separates the vocal style and characteristics of familiar voices like Carrie Underwood and Shelby Lynne, Alison Krauss and Dolly Parton. It also leaves you in doubt as to the sheer class and enduring elegance of Emmylou Harris. In what amounts to an album of musical mug shots, there’s no problem identifying the singers that stand head and shoulders above the rest -- and those who (despite their audiophile fan base) are found wanting. But the really impressive thing is the way the speakers step away from the process, neither imposing their thumbprint on the signal nor intruding on the parade. The musical performances are front and center -- you don’t even notice how they got there.

The RPO’s performance of Beethoven’s 6th Symphony with Marc Ermler wielding the baton [Centurion SACD 222802-203] is more measured than sprightly, although not without its charms, one of which is a broad, stable and clearly defined soundstage. The Square Fives deliver that dimensionality with impressive clarity and a stability that maintains instrumental separation even through the short "Storm" section. It’s a recording that demands both spatial and dynamic coherence and one that also demonstrates the Square Five's particular perspective. This speaker sets the stage slightly higher than some (a function of the Troika topology?) behind and totally separate from the cabinets themselves. But what’s really impressive is the way that the drums and double basses are perfectly placed and integrated with the rest of the orchestra, despite the distance between the lower-midrange driver and the bass drivers firing through its bottom. What experience suggests might be a problem is, on the contrary, one of the speaker’s strengths. Soundstages are projected free of the plane of the speakers, the music coming from the space around and behind them rather than being anchored to the cabinets. Shut your eyes and these speakers do disappear, not just visually but sonically as well.

Last action hero -- they do big and they do clever

oes that sense of physical coherence and structural integrity come with a cost in terms of agility? Whilst the Square Five will never compete in terms of sheer immediacy with a far more efficient speaker like the Living Voice Avatar IBX-RW, it delivers more in terms of acoustic presence, scale and spatial coherence, stepping back to a more midhall balance and perspective. No, you won’t "hear" the rosin spraying from the bow, but that’s not to say that the speaker lacks expressive intent, the ability to jump when it has to. Just play Gli Incogniti’s impressively lively and vivacious small-group recording of Vivaldi concerti [Zig Zag ZZT080803] to experience just how quickly these speakers can change gear when called upon to do so. Their stability brings weight and meaning to the more measured passages, but as the score speeds up and the players respond, there’s no sense of inhibition or lag -- and no lack of bite or energy either. Side-by-side comparison with a quicker, more efficient speaker may show the Square Five’s limitations, but short of such direct intervention, I seriously doubt you’ll be troubled by any shortcomings. There’s a completeness and balance to the performance -- both of the speaker and the musicians -- that has the happy knack of leaving you satisfied.

While it’s hard to fault Hilary Hahn’s technique, poise and virtuosity, her instrumental voice, when compared to the likes of a Janine Jansen, is undeniably small. It can ill afford any further thinning or shrinkage of the sort that so many recordings, systems and speakers apply, in search of that elusive impression of greater clarity or definition. As each stage in the process applies what it considers a deft or subtle trimming of the sound, the gross effect becomes all too obvious, emasculating instruments of tonal body, depth and identity. Listening to Hahn playing the Higdon Violin Concerto (with Vasily Petrenko and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic [DGG 477 8777]) through the Square Fives is a revelation. What I had down as a typically thin modern recording is suddenly reinstated. The woman is no Heifetz when it comes to power and intensity, no Issac Stern when it comes to the richness of her tone, but the Wilson Benesch speakers deliver every last ounce of the energy and body she squeezes from her instrument -- and they do it without impeding her sheer agility and dexterity. Nor do they impede Petrenko’s authoritative instrumental contrasts and dramatic dynamic swings. The sheer orchestral weight and power generated from such comparatively compact cabinets is as surprising as it is impressive. As a result, this first-ever recording of the Higdon reveals quite a different work to the one I thought it was: fuller of color, broader of palette than I’d suspected, at once thoughtful yet exhilarating.

The coupling on this disc (the Tchaikovsky D Major Violin Concerto) also serves to underline the fact that the bass integration so apparent on the Beethoven extends into the temporal as well as the spatial domain. Hahn’s performance of the Tchaikovsky sensibly avoids any overly romantic flourishes, leaving those to Petrenko and the orchestra. Instead she thrives on the contrast between her solo instrument and the orchestra, working with tempo as well as intensity, an opportunity offered by the use of the original, uncut score. The longer violin passages allow her to stretch out the time signatures, transitioning from a restrained, measured tread to the helter-skelter sprays of notes with which we are all so familiar. It makes for a very different reading of a work in which I thought I knew every nook and cranny. The contrast within the pace of the solo parts creates a far more thoughtful and nuanced piece, the Square Fives mastering the change from fast to slow with grace and confidence that reassure you that the hesitations and almost pauses in those slower passages really are meant to be there. The slower phrases are slow enough to give you pause, yet the switch to lightning-fast occurs without hesitation and almost without warning. Hahn plays the slower parts that much slower, the faster sections with such attack and agility that in places the tempi stray far enough from the norm (and your subconscious expectations) that any failure to track and balance them precisely will rob the music of all shape or forward momentum. But just as the Cure are projected with enough energy to propel the listener straight over a cliff, the Tchaikovsky never, ever falters, the combination of Hahn’s poise and Petrenko’s control establishing a natural sense of flow and musical line. It’s this ability to make present the core, to encompass the rhythm and soul of the music, that makes this speaker so special and so rewarding -- whether that core is all about restraint and delicacy, or sheer, unbridled enthusiasm.

Having spent so long lauding the capabilities and flexibility of the Tactic drivers -- and then describing their not-inconsiderable and collective impact on the Square Five's musical performance, it’s tempting to throw a few sidelong glances in the direction of that "rather ordinary" ScanSpeak tweeter. After all, those corners have to be cut somewhere, no? Except that not only do Wilson Benesch have considerable experience with this unit, that experience was gained in the C60 (amongst other models), one of the company’s most popular products. Despite the plethora of exotic dome materials now available, as well as the recent reemergence of ribbon designs, soft domes still have plenty to offer. A few years back it seemed like you were nobody if you weren’t using a diamond or beryllium tweeter, but now the silk dome is back, carving its own niche (once again) as designers rediscover its merits. In fairness, the ScanSpeak unit doesn’t have the air or textural qualities that the Semisphere used in the Cardinal possesses, but it’s no slouch, and even if it does gloss over some of the finer shadings and upper-instrumental harmonics, it more than makes up for that by integrating so seamlessly with the upper-midrange driver, settling back comfortably into the speaker’s midhall perspective.

True lies -- the ones we should stop telling ourselves

ou will hear what the Square Five doesn’t do when referenced against the six-times the price Cardinal, but you not only won’t be aware of the shortfall, you won’t miss it either. Not missing what you don’t notice might seem obvious, but it is remarkable how the editorial aspects of system performance (sins of omission as opposed to commission) can become subliminally intrusive, unsettling the listener without his ever quite understanding why. The wholesome solidity and substance, the coherence and integrity of the Square Five is a refreshing change to the pared-away, almost skeletal sound of some modern speakers. It keeps things present and sufficiently correct that you’ll spend far more time enjoying what is there rather than what isn’t. Yes, in an ideal world, I’d like that little bit of extra air, I’d like extension down to 20Hz, and I’d love to sit that little bit closer to the stage -- but then in that ideal world I’d be able to afford the Cardinal and house it too.

In the real world, the Square Five represents an astonishingly accomplished achievement and satisfying balance of virtues. As with any speaker, its performance will depend on the system context and the driving amplifier. The latter will need to be chosen with care, although it need not be especially expensive, at least in the context of the speakers. This is not one of those products that is affordable to own but extortionate to actually use (various Apogee speakers spring to mind), and it really does deliver the sort of complete musical performance that we’ve only come to expect from far more expensive speakers and systems.

One way of describing the Square Five is as a speaker that has enough. It has enough bandwidth, enough weight, enough dynamic range and is neutral enough to be really convincing. It’s an accurate but far from flattering observation -- because what we crave is excellence. Enough sounds distinctly second best. But in practice what makes the Square Five so successful, so enjoyable, so engaging and so satisfying is not just what it does but the way it does it. It’s not about the dynamic range or integration, the bandwidth or the tonal palette, the rhythmic integrity or the spatial coherence -- it’s about all of those things in combination. Nearly all loudspeakers have that thing they do, that special thing, that thing that sets them apart. In some respects the same can be said of the Wilson Benesch Square Five -- except that its thing is integration -- the way it binds everything else into a single, natural, unexaggerated whole. It’s the antithesis of "look at me" spectacular. It makes the speaker understated and unintrusive. In fact, it’s exactly what makes the speaker so impressive. By stepping back it pushes the music forward to such an extent that you really don’t notice the speakers’ contribution. It makes it a purchase for the long haul, a speaker for music lovers rather than equipment geeks, a product to live with long-term rather than one for a brief affair.

In some respects that might stand against it, at least in terms of commercial success; so many audiophiles are more trend-conscious than fashionistas, so easily seduced by the latest, greatest thing that inevitably promises the earth, that a product as prosaic, as plain and as downright sensible as the Square Five might easily be dismissed as a wallflower, the smart girl that never gets asked to dance. Except that its performance is so beautifully balanced, so unusually natural and expressive that even one listen should reveal its superiority. This is a product that is musically, rather than sonically spectacular. It really does deliver on the promise of trickle-down technology, standing head and shoulders above most of the competition.

I’m not saying that one listen and you’ll fall in love; it’s more like one listen and you’ll feel like you’ve just come home -- and there’re not many speakers about which you can say that, irrespective of price.