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The System Audio Legend 40.2 Silverback DS ($6414.84/pair including the WiSA Stereo Hub HT) is a floorstanding loudspeaker system of modest size, significant weight, and impressive solidity. Its sides are gently bowed . . . The appearance is cool and calm, with or without the grille.

At least three premieres, a number of rooms with glorious sound, and reunions with old friends both human and electronic distinguished my romp through the hallways of Warsaw's PGE Narodowy on the first day of Audio Video 2025 in Warsaw. Compared to other days I've spent at shows in Chicago, Munich, Florida, and Seattle, it was a pretty fine day.

Walking through any big art museum, even at a brisk pace, it's impossible not to notice how boldly each object wears the unique stamp of its time and place of manufacture. It doesn't matter whether the artist worked in Paris or Polynesia, in the 15th or 20th century. The force of the creator's persona, united with the constraints of the cultural system that supported the making of that type of art, determines the vibe the object emits. That vibe is what I'm hoping to grasp.

Earlier this year, it occurred to Robert Lucskai that he could combine his life-long love of high-end hi-fi with his expertise as a real estate agent. Thus his startup business Costa Soniqa ("Sound Coast") was born.

Although I have very much appreciated how the best floorstanding loudspeakers have performed in my various listening rooms over the decades, I have always been most comfortable with relatively small two-way standmounts. Back in the early 1980s, I got musically moving sound from a pair of Rogers LS3/5a's, which I still own . . .

Not many hi-fi dealerships can say they've survived half a century of history. Natural Sound, which is based in Framingham, Massachusetts, about 20 miles west of Boston, is one that can. Founded by Jim Lackey in 1975, Natural Sound turns 50 years old this November.

If you go to Tokyo, there's a good chance you'll develop a new appreciation for shopping malls. The Japanese know malls. They know just what to do with them. Inside a Tokyo mall, you can peruse the usual handbags and shoes in their unending variety. But you can also stare at Fuji apples as large as a baby's head swaddled in tissue paper, flip through the world's most exquisite stationery, stock up on fabric from the 1920s, and taste things that will haunt you well into retirement.