Marque : Mark Levinson
Modèle et options : N°332
Prix de vente : 3200 euros
Département où la marchandise est visible : 38
Possibilité d'expédition : oui
Montant des frais d'expédition : 120 euros TTC pour la France.
État de la marchandise :
nickel, sauf une petite rayure pratiquement invisible, je vous enverrais des photos sur demande.
Les ailettes de droites ont comme " déteintes", un défaut des Mark levinson de cette série, rien de grave bien sûr.
Sinon il fonctionne trés bien et ne chauffe pas trop,
Première main : non
Prix neuf : 12000e à sa sortie.
Facture disponible : non, acte de cession sera fourni
Date et lieu d'achat : je retrouve la date exacte et vous dis ça + tard.
Garantie et date d'expiration : expirée
Numéro de série : en mp au besoin
Emballage d'origine conservé : oui
Documentations conservées : oui
Description générale :
Rated Power output
200 W/ ch - 8 Ohm
400 W/ ch - 4 Ohm
800 W/ch - 2 Ohm
Frequency response
20 Hz-20 kHz within 0.1 dB
SN-ratio
better than -80 dB (ref 1 W)
Input impedance
100 kOhm balanced
50 kOhm single-ended
Damping factor
greater than 800
Site web du constructeur :
Commentaires :
Tout ce que je peux dire c'est que cet ampli est un maillon fort à la maison, il tourne actuellement avec le préamp ML-380S.
il a cette transparence et cette musicalité que beaucoup n'ont malheureusement pas, ici c'est l'électronique en amont qui chante..
Le mc-7270 de Mc intosh, le classé CA-2200 pour ne citer qu'eux n'avaient pas cette classe et cette musicalité à la maison..
Le mariage avec mon préamp Melody 1688II fut un grand moment aussi, vraiment excellent.
Pour ne rien gâcher, il tiendra sans soucis de gros hp grâce à ses gros watts et ses 1330va par canal.. Un monstre de puissance musicale ( certain le font tourner sur des 800 de b&w par exemple ).
Mais attention, tout ça se paie, il pèse 60kg , faut le savoir..
Une chance qu'il soit de dimension raisonnable, il entre entre les pieds de nos meubles hifi, vous le verez sur les photos, nickel.
Il tourne actuellement avec le préamp ML-380S et des focal utopia Diablo, une écoute est bien sûr possible.
Ce que j'ai trouvé sur le net,
"...Fi Review — reviewed 11/1996
While listening to the great Decca/London recording of Puccini's Turandot - Zubin Mehta conducting the Vienna Philharmonic, with Joan Sutherland and the pre-Three-Tenors Pavarotti- through the Mark Levinson Nº332 amplifier, I experienced a bit of déja vu. I was transported by Puccini's final opera about the head-happy Princess who likes to riddle her suitors, by its glorious, sometimes bombastic music, by the lush sound of the orchestra and chorus (beautifully captured by producer John Culshaw and the Decca Engineers), but mostly I was transported by the voice of Montserrat Caballé as the slave-girl, Liù. The music Puccini wrote for the character of Liù is among the most ravishingly beautiful he ever composed, and the Levinson 332, on this, and all music I played through it, proved to be one of the most truly neutral-as in colorless-amplifiers I have ever heard. I couldn't help but reflect on the first time I heard this record (at age seventeen)--how it knocked me over--and the fact that back then it was also played through a Mark Levinson amplifier.
I got bitten by the audio bug at the impressionable age of twelve when my seventeen-year-old sister took me along for a visit with her older boyfriend. He was twenty-two, and to my adolescent self seemed unbelievably cool and sophisticated; he listened to the Stones, Procol Harum, The Who, Dylan, and Hendrix, wore snakeskin boots, had long hair, friends who looked like English rock stars, and drove around in an Austin Mini Cooper with a Union Jack painted on its roof. Plus, he had built himself a pair of enormous horn-loaded speakers that were modeled after the Altec Lansing Voice Of The Theaters. With their black spray-painted plywood enclosures and off-the-shelf drivers and crossovers they weren't particularly refined in look or sound, but boy could they move air. And that wave of horn-loaded air, and the sheer presence and size of sound, was most impressive to someone like me who had grown up listening to his parents' Admiral console system (although I have great memories of hearing their Nat Cole and Sinatra records on that all-in-one relic) and my own first stereo-remember those things that were like a suitcase, with speakers that hinged to the top, folded together and clasped in the middle to create a handy, easy-to-carry package?
Those home-made horns were inspiring, and a few years later with the help of the same man-my first audio mentor-I built a much smaller speaker for myself (sans bass horn) based on the Klipsch Heresy-hey, I was hip back then, who could have foreseen the current revival of interest in horn speakers?-bought myself a Phillips GA-212 turntable and inexpensive Shure cartridge, a used Scott tube integrated amp and tuner, and by the time I could drive I was in the world of component audio.
Of course those wheels were dangerous, not in the usual crazy-eyed-teenage-male-driver kind of way, but because they provided me with the ability to travel farther in pursuit of my hobby (this was around 1974, and coincided with the birth of the "high end"). I started visiting audio shops on a regular basis, and eventually discovered Garland Audio in San Jose, one of the Bay Area's first, and most exotic, audio salons.
There, I heard my first Audio Research electronics, Rogers LS3/5As, the Technics SP-10 turntable mounted with Dynavector's strange double-pivot arm (the Linn Sondek was just starting to get known), and first pair of Magneplanars (see Jonathan Valin's review of the Maggie 2.7 on page...).
Another day, I stopped by for one of my regular gaga-eyed fantasy visits and there, alongside the aluminum-faced Audio Research gear was a new, rather unusual preamp, black, slim of profile, lacking tone controls and user flexibilty, and in two chassis-one for the left channel and one for the right. (Actually, four chassis if you counted the separate power supplies for each main audio section.) Although there were more boxes, there were also fewer knobs, just two per mono side-one for volume, the other for source selection. The preamp also used non-standard connectors, "K-Max" (camacs) I was told. This was the first version of the Mark Levinson ML 6, then an outrageously expensive $1,800. Soon, more gear from this Connecticut firm appeared: the now classic ML 2 mono amps-that's when I first heard Turandot, over Magneplanar Tympani 1Us, I believe-then more ML 2s, and yet more, and soon six of these big black, terribly hot running beasts were stacked two by three in order to drive the HQD system: a Levinson concoction of two stacked Quad electrostats, a Decca Ribbon Tweeter, and an 18" Hartley subwoofer per side-all arrayed in a custom "easel" stand and tri-amplified utilizing Levinson's LNC-2 crossover.
Later still I had the opportunity to meet the man behind the products, and at my urging the audio store I worked for at the time brought in the Levinson line and I was able to experience day-to-day the exotica I had long lusted after, but couldn't possibly afford.
At dealer seminars of the time, Mark Levinson used to bring along a vintage Leica rangefinder camera and talk about its pedigree, craftsmanship, and reliability, and compare his vision for his electronics company to that of the German camera-maker. He also said that he wanted his pieces to be above obsolescence, and hoped that they might be handed down, generation to generation, as a new kind of family heirloom.
Good salesmanship, true, but it is that philosophy that still drives the current men of Madrigal to build the kind of products that have made them, by a considerable margin, the largest producer of high-end audio electronics in the world.
In the meantime, much has changed: Mark Levinson left the company in 1985 and started a new company named Cello (after the instrument his mother played). A new regime (composed of many long-time Levinson employees) took over the old, financially-strapped Levinson company, breathed new life into it, and renamed it Madrigal Audio Labs.1
The Nº332 amplifier resides smack in the middle of Madrigal's regular series of amplifiers. I say regular because they also build a Reference series of cost-no-object components--essentially research projects designed to push the Madrigal design team's creative output to its maximum. (To date there have been but four Reference products: The Nº20 mono amplifiers-later updated to the 20.6, the Nº30 DAC and 31 Transport -currently sporting .5 designations, and the Nº33 mono amplifiers which Larry Kay will soon be reviewing.) The 332 is typical of Madrigal and other top quality solid-state designs in that it puts out ever greater power as the speaker load decreases. This is especially helpful when it comes to controlling big woofers (as audio frequencies go deeper, the impedance often drops, so if you want powerful, controlled bass, a well-muscled solid-state amp is usually-if not exclusively-the way to go).
Conservatively rated at 200 watts per channel, the 332 is a dual mono design, essentially two separate amps within one housing, sharing only the AC power cord.
Now, nothing made by the hands of men or machine is 100% reliable. However, when you get to this league of audio component, a high-degree of reliability is not only something of a given, it is in my opinion, a requirement. I no longer have use for components that, no matter how much I might love their sound, drive me to fits of cursing because they also don't work half the time-after all, I gave up on Alfa Spiders years ago for the same reason, much as I love driving them. The Madrigal electronics are superb performers that rarely, if ever, let their owners down.
If the first Levinson amp I heard, the ML 2, was warm and intimate sounding, and its macho-man brother, the ML 3 was a cold-hearted heavyweight brute, and many of their descendants have been excellent but somewhat easy to identify sonically-rather warm and slowish sounding, seductively rich-then the Nº332 is just the opposite: the kind of audio product that is difficult to pin down, to get used to, to figure out. It is, in my experience-and I've had twenty years of it with Levinson gear-a firm step forward for this company in terms of overall coherence, freedom from grain, and as noted earlier, coloration. It's an amplifier that challenges the associated gear, especially digital sources (an arena in which Madrigal has done magnificently), to be as good as they can, because the slightest signal aberrations upstream will result in a rude unveiling of any grain, grit, steeliness, and constriction after the signal has passed through the amp.
Although I've described the Nº332 as being nearly colorless, it isn't truly; nothing is. When audiophiles use the term neutrality they talk as if it were an absolute, but in reality neutrality is merely a matter of degree, and within a certain spectrum each product filters the sound like an electronic prism, coloring it as it passes through. With the Nº332, I'm less aware of this prism than I've ever been with a Levinson amp-or most others for that matter-and it has challenged me as a reviewer, as I suspect it did its very creators, to rethink the notion of just what type of sound we are listening for, what compromises we must make in order to achieve our own angle on truthfulness-and to confront the fact that added colorations are often not only what we want, but what we expect to hear from components. (As others have noted, neutrality, or truthfulness, in our audio systems is not always a welcome thing. And I suspect most of us-while hoping for both-would ultimately prefer a beautiful sound to a truthful sound, despite protests to the contrary.)
For example, on a disc I've used for countless evaluations this year, Emmylou Harris' Wrecking Ball [Asylum 61854-2], the Nº332 did a superb job of clarifying and highlighting the squirrely mix. The voice, guitars, big fat bass, and snappy snare drum were all up-front, and widely placed (especially after placing MIT's great top-of-the-line MI-350 Proline Reference balanced interconnect and MH-770 speaker cable into the system). There was an amazing sense that the amplifier was always in control of the music, even when the production threatened to spin out of control. This is a situation where one does, indeed, get both truth and beauty. With the 332 I admit that the strange, artificial sonic landscape that Wrecking Ball inhabits was left dry as a desert. However, it wasn't the kind of desert I imagine when thinking of T.E. Lawrence wandering through Arabia deserta. Rather, it was like an Arizona desert of cacti and reptiles, of rock, brush, yucca, and wandering characters out of Sam Shepard plays. What I mean is that by laying bare the studio-created atmosphere, the Nº332 allowed me to appreciate the producer's intent in a way that I hadn't quite before. And thankfully the music and Harris' sensual, gravelly, if not pretty voice provided beauties not often found in the hazy mix.
On more naturally recorded, smaller scale music, like the Alto reissue of Mstislav Rostropovich and Benjamin Britten [Decca ffss SXL 2298], the power of the 332's mid-to-upper bass-an especially critical band of frequencies if one is to be convinced of the body and weight of instruments-was fully displayed. On this disc of music for piano and cello, the natural richness, warmth, harmonic complexity, and wide dynamics of these instruments not only came across with with power, but also with the immediacy and intimacy that is also appopriate to chamber music. (Let me note that I'm not saying that the 332 exaggerates these frequencies; in fact, it is one of the most well-tempered audio components of any type that I've experienced across the entire band.)
With its overall balance and control, the 332 did an excellent job with a modern electric blues recording. On John Lee Hooker's The Healer [Silvertone ORE LP 508], on the title track with Carlos Santana and his band backing up John Lee, the voodoo-swamp staccato vocal of Hooker was as articulate and worldly-wise as I've heard from live performances by this legendary bluesman. The Latin-spiced rhythms of Santana's band with its congas, timbales, and his stinging, signature lead licks, were all up front and propulsively alive on this well recorded studio disc.
One would expect a big amp to do well on big music. Returning to Turandot, I must add that the amplifier easily handled the complexities of the score during furious passages where full orchestra, chorus, and soloists were giving the music their all. In typical Culshaw/Decca fashion the Vienna Philharmonic's strings are warm and luminous, the brass burnished and throaty, the basses and drums round, rich, and full, and the voices of these magnificent singers shine as clearly and brilliantly as any I've heard on record. If soundstaging and the ability to render an illusion of three-dimensional space are important to you, rest assured that on a record like this one the 332 will not disappoint.
Now, should you rush out and audition a Nº332? Not if you're looking for an amplifier that will make all your records sound sweet and sexy and liquid. Not if you love the warmth and harmonic richness (sometimes, distortion) of a classic single-ended tube amp. But if, on the other hand, you might be looking for an audio amplifier capable of revealing much sonic truth, an amplifier of rare pedigree, supreme quality of build and reliability, and as consistently uncolored as they come, then the Levinson Nº332 is an amplifier you will want to consider taking home for the long term.
Wayne Garcia..."
Liens divers :
ici une review du 333, qui, pour l'écouter souvent chez un ami, a la même esthetique sonore d'autant plus que le 332 sera largement suffisant pour la plupart d'entre nous..
http://www.avrev.com/home-theater-power ... ifier.html
Photos :
Acheter et vendre sur HCFR : mode d'emploi
Créé le 23 Mai 2023 9:46
