關於 minimal space meaning ，我們在網路上蒐集到這些相關的討論、資訊與評價

DIMPY BHALOTIA

Poche, pochissime erano le foto in casa di Henri Cartier-Bresson; una, forse due. Una, per cui il grande fotografo aveva una vera e propria ammirazione, era “Three Boys at Lake Tanganika” di Martin Munkácsi. Tre ragazzini immortalati di spalle che sprigionano un’incontenibile vitalità mentre corrono verso le acque del lago. Perché Cartier-Bresson amava quella fotografia? Perché, come ha detto lui stesso: “Ho capito improvvisamente che la fotografia può fissare l’eternità in un momento”. Osservando la fotografia “Flying Boys” di Dimpy Bhalotia, e con la quale si è aggiudicato il Female in Focus Award 2020 del British Journal of Photography, sembra che i tre ragazzini di Munkácsi siano tornati dopo un viaggio lungo novant’anni. Di più, pare che siano tornati per spiccare il volo e catturati nel preciso momento in cui occhio, cuore e mente del fotografo sono perfettamente allineati come una costellazione lontana. C’è, nelle fotografie della giovane indiana di Londra, qualcosa che arriva da una precisa tradizione fotografica e che àncora saldamente la composizione a quelle tre fondamentali componenti cui si faceva cenno, orientandola verso la ricerca del momento in cui un episodio umano – e non solo – ha la capacità di espletare il suo senso. Irripetibilmente. I riferimenti non mancano, e sono segno di una solida cultura visiva. Quanto guardiamo nelle fotografie di Dimpy Bhalotia sembra fuoriuscire da un racconto riscritto con nuove parole, nuovi cenni ma fermamente determinato a essere interpretato attraverso un lessico che costringe a sostare nello spazio citazionista giusto il tempo che occorre prima di assumere una vita propria. E questa sottile e aggraziata visione delle cose che plana sugli avvenimenti, ha quel respiro che sta dentro in una visione poetica della vita, perché per scattare fotografie che sappiano restituire la bellezza d’un gesto occorre amare la vita e i suoi interpreti. Ecco che uomini e animali, colti singolarmente o al crocevia della reciproca interazione, ci appaiono come soggetti appena involontariamente dialoganti ma che, a ben guardare, sono catturati nell’esatto momento di un dialogo segreto. La forza delle fotografie di Dimpy Bhalotia viene da lontano e dunque è ben strutturata. E si vede soprattutto nell’azzardo di forme, nella scommessa formale giocata sul corpo dei soggetti animali, da cui, in altre circostanze, cogliamo una felice traccia surrealista, un terreno ideale nel quale risolvere talune spericolatezze compositive. Il lavoro di Dimpy Bhalotia sosta alla confluenza di due differenti correnti fotografiche: l’umanesimo e il surrealismo (lo stesso Cartier-Bresson sperimentò un delicatissimo surrealismo prima di fondare la Magnum), maneggiati entrambi con disinvoltura e sicurezza. La sua è una voce limpidissima, minimale. Le composizioni obbediscono al comandamento d’essere rigidamente impostate su un registro essenziale, al limite del calligrafico, ma la sobrietà ci convince del risultato. Il solco della tradizione è tracciato, ma seguirne il percorso senza aggiungere le proprie impronte è come non averci camminato. La fotografia è un libro che non finisce mai di essere scritto, a patto d’avere qualcosa da dire. Come in questo caso.

Giuseppe Cicozzetti
foto Dimpy Bhalotia
https://www.dimpybhalotia.com/

DIMPY BHALOTIA

Few, very few were the photos in Henri Cartier-Bresson's house; one, maybe two. One, for which the great photographer had a real admiration, was Martin Munkácsi's “Three Boys at Lake Tanganika”. Three kids immortalized from behind who release an irrepressible vitality as they run towards the waters of the lake. Why did Cartier-Bresson love that photograph? Because, as he himself said: "I suddenly understood that photography can fix eternity in a moment". Looking at Dimpy Bhalotia's “Flying Boys” photograph, and with which she won the British Journal of Photography's Female in Focus Award 2020, it seems that the three kids from Munkácsi are back after a 90-year journey. What's more, they seem to have returned to take flight and captured at the precise moment when the photographer's eye, heart and mind are perfectly aligned like a distant constellation. There is, in the photographs of the young Indian woman based in London, something that comes from a precise photographic tradition and that firmly anchors the composition to those three fundamental components mentioned, orienting it towards the search for the moment in which a human episode - and not alone - has the ability to carry out its meaning. Unrepeatable. There’s no shortage of references, and they are a sign of a solid visual culture. What we look at in Dimpy Bhalotia's photographs seems to come out of a story rewritten with new words, new hints but firmly determined to be interpreted through a lexicon that forces us to pause in the quotationist space just the time it takes before taking on a life of its own. And this subtle and graceful vision of things that hovers over events, has that breath that lies within a poetic vision of life, because to take photographs that are able to restore the beauty of a gesture, you need to love life and its interpreters. Here men and animals, caught individually or at the crossroads of mutual interaction, appear to us as subjects that are barely involuntary in dialogue but who, on closer inspection, are captured in the exact moment of a secret dialogue. The strength of Dimpy Bhalotia's photographs comes from afar and therefore is well structured. And it is seen above all in the balancing of forms, in the formal bet played on the body of animal subjects, from which, in other circumstances, we grasp a happy surrealist trace, an ideal terrain in which to resolve certain compositional recklessness. Dimpy Bhalotia's work stops at the confluence of two different photographic currents: humanism and surrealism (Cartier-Bresson himself experienced a very delicate surrealism before founding Magnum), both handled with ease and confidence. Her is a very clear, minimal voice. The compositions obey the commandment to be rigidly set on an essential register, bordering on calligraphic, but the sobriety convinces us of the result. The groove of tradition is traced, but following its path without adding one's footprints is like not having walked through it. Photography is a book that never stops being written, as long as you have something to say. As in this case.

Giuseppe Cicozzetti
ph. Dimpy Bhalotia
https://www.dimpybhalotia.com/

Alumine Five of Stenheim

Stenheim is a relatively late entrant to the high-end speaker field. It was founded in 2010 by a collective of mainly ex-Goldmund engineers, and its products have inherited an unmistakable aesthetic and, to a lesser extent, sonic DNA, although it was a significantly evolved character that was to emerge in the shape of the debut model, the compact, two-way Alumine Two. It’s a developmental divergence that has continued and, if anything, accelerated with the emergence of each subsequent product. The latest Stenheim speakers, developed under the auspices of new owner Jean-Pascal Panchard, definitely have their own, unambiguous identity, both visually and musically.

I’ve been seriously looking forward to the arrival of the Alumine Five. Previous experience with the brand has included impressive exposure to the various versions of the enormous and enormously impressive Ultime Reference models, as well as a brief but highly rewarding flirtation with the stand-mounted Alumine Two in my own system. The possibility of combining the sense of musical articulation, enthusiasm and communication I experienced from the Alumine Two, with more than a hint of the clarity, scale and authority so effortlessly delivered by the Reference models, all in a package that, if not exactly affordable, at least isn’t completely out of the question, makes the Alumine Five a distinctly interesting proposition.

Yet, confronted with the Alumine Five in the flesh, there’s little to hint at the extraordinary promise lurking within. Resolutely rectangular in true Stenheim style, the Five’s aluminum cabinet, with its plate-to-plate construction, stands just 48" tall, 15" deep and presents a broad 11" face to the world, dimensions based on golden-ratio numbers. The front baffle is split by a physical break between the upper midrange-treble enclosure and the lower bass cabinet, independently ported by the laminated full-width slots above and below, a physical separation that is mirrored by the contrasting inlaid strips that help visually break up the one-piece side panels. The regular lines, smooth surfaces, flawless matte finish and lack of visible fixings could easily result in a bland, almost featureless appearance. But those trim strips and the offset midrange and treble drivers do just enough to give the Five a subtle hint of individual style without resorting to the sort of gauche and ostentatious flourishes that so often pass as design.

The result is a refreshingly clean, classical appearance that will blend seamlessly with a range of different decors. Despite the lack of grilles (although they are available as an option, does anybody really spend this kind of money on a speaker and then compromise the performance by fitting covers?), the beautifully profiled baffle and absence of visible fixings makes for a genuinely neat, finished appearance that matches the superb surface finish on the cabinet. The end result just looks right, in a way that makes you wonder why you’d want grilles anyway.

The first hint of its potent sonic capabilities comes when you try to pick it up. Each comparatively compact cabinet tips the scales at 220 pounds. That’s a grunt-inducing, two-man lift. Now, take a look at the figures for bandwidth and sensitivity, and an in-room response that digs down as far as 28Hz combined with 94dB efficiency should raise your eyebrows, especially given the compact cabinet dimensions. Which brings us to the first experiential disconnect: boxes this size shouldn’t produce this much bass or do it so easily. Nor should they weigh so much -- although therein lies the clue to this particular conundrum. When it comes to bass extension, it’s not the external dimensions of the box that matter, but its internal volume. Just like the Crystal Cable Minissimo, a thin-wall cabinet makes for a much larger internal volume than the external dimensions might suggest -- especially if we apply the expectations of more conventional wood-based construction. Throw in the sheer weight of the aluminum panels and the combination of mass and physical dimensions would subconsciously suggest massively thick walls -- and a correspondingly limited internal volume. Instead, what we have here is a deceptively large volume, which, combined with the inertia of the heavy cabinet and the mechanical stability provided by the material, makes for an effective mechanical reference for driver movement, meaning that more of the energy your amplifier sticks into the speaker comes out as sound and (at least in theory) it will be more precisely rendered.

So far, not very much that’s new. It’s not like Stenheim (or Magico, or YG Acoustics) has exclusivity when it comes to aluminum cabinets. But what does make Stenheim different is the unique material they use in damping their cabinet panels. Of course, the separate enclosures and the internal baffles they demand make for an inherently heavily braced structure, but look inside a dismantled Alumine Five and you’ll find strategically placed pads stuck to the cabinet walls. These three-layer, self-adhesive pads combine a heavy damping layer (adjacent to the cabinet wall itself) with added foam and impervious layers, allowing the low-volume pads to influence both the mechanical behavior of the cabinet itself and the enclosed volume. It’s an interesting solution because it manages to overcome the weakness so often audible in simple, braced aluminum cabinets (the all-too-recognizable resonant signature of the material itself) while maximizing the benefits (large volume and rigidity) by obviating the need to stuff the internal space full of wadding or long-haired wool. In fact, if the Stenheims were stood behind a sonically transparent curtain, you’d be hard-pressed to recognize the music as emanating from an aluminum cabinet at all. The absence of the bleached, grainy or lean colorations, the lack of sterile, mechanistic reproduction, is one big half of the Stenheim story, living, breathing proof that it’s not what you use but how you use it that counts.

The other half is down to the drive units, and after the cabinets, those come as quite a surprise, both the lineup and the chosen materials. In stark contrast to the use of the latest, precision CNC techniques, complex damping pads and finishing options, the Alumine Five's drivers are as traditional as they come, with a coated silk-dome tweeter and pulp or laminated paper midrange and bass drivers. The cone drivers use textile double-roll surrounds and massive magnets more normally found in pro-audio applications, and while Stenheim doesn’t build its own drivers, the company works closely with its chosen supplier (PHL, definitely not one of the usual suspects) to specify the electrical parameters, mechanical characteristics and precise details of the surface coating.

The use of such lightweight cone materials and large motors aids the system efficiency, while a hybrid second-order/Linkwitz-Riley crossover, the result of extended listening and evolution, ensures phase coherence and excellent out-of-band attenuation and makes for easy non-reactive load characteristics, despite the three-way topology. The other aspect of the driver lineup that might be considered slightly unusual is the use of a large-diameter (6 1/2") midrange unit -- although less so since Vandersteen’s patent on the approach lapsed some years ago, resulting in a rash of companies suddenly exploring the possibilities of the topology.

Perhaps more important, in the case of the Alumine Five, it means that you are getting the tweeter and midrange drivers from the Ultime Reference series speakers, teamed here with a pair of 10" woofers but without the benefit of a super tweeter. Even so, Stenheim quotes bandwidth out to 35kHz, which should suffice for most purposes. The review speakers arrived with the optional second set of terminals installed, allowing for biwiring or, more significantly, biamping, an upgrade opportunity that makes this an option you should take. If, in the meantime, you are single-wiring the speakers, make sure you factor in a set of jumpers that match your speaker cables: the Alumine Five's overall sense of musical coherence makes the benefits especially obvious. Likewise, good wiring practice is essential, both in terms of cable dressing and diagonal connection (red to midrange/treble, black to bass, with jumpers arranged accordingly).

Aside from the speaker's substantial weight, the parallel sides and flat surfaces of the four-square cabinet make setting up the Fives an absolute joy. Precise, repeatable, angular adjustments are easily achieved, while changes in attitude are just as straightforward, helped by the beautifully profiled stainless-steel spiked feet and deeply cupped footers. Both the cones and their locking rings have nice, large ports to take the supplied pry bars, but it’s worth greasing the threads before installation. One other thing to watch out for: the spikes are seriously (refreshingly) sharp -- sharp enough to penetrate a thick rug and score the floor below, so be careful where you stand the speakers once the feet are installed. Final positioning disposed the speakers on a broad front with minimal toe-in. When it came to dialing in their considerable musical energy, the most critical factor proved to be height off the ground, with tiny adjustments of the spikes making profound differences to the weight and pace of the presentation. Likewise, equal weighting of the four spikes was crucial to a proper sense of grounded weight and dynamic authority.
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Price: $60,000 per pair.
Warranty: Five years parts and labor.

(Source: The Audio Beat)

ÉNFD is an abbreviation of 'Énfold'- pronounced as 'unfold' with a meaning of 'gather and envelop' people through good food. It runs like a private kitchen, though walk-ins are welcome, the dining space is limited and could only host no more than 15 diners at a time. The dining hall preserves the sense of heritage with minimal interior decor; probably meant to encourage and enhance camaraderie amongst diners. It is a space that one could really talk and engage with each other. On the menu, the list of magical offering is unique and creatively crafted by the team behind ÉNFD; with focus on using Herbs and Spices ('local flavors') to intermingle with international flavors. The conservatives will find the menu too playful and to me, this is the attitude in lacking especially in the culinary scene in Penang. The brunch menu is only available on Saturdays and Sundays, from 11 am to 3 pm.

Goo Bak Mee- Citrus Noodles served with Steak and Soft-Boiled Egg (Rm 25 nett)
Smorrebrod (Rm 18 nett)
Strawberry Cheesecake Sundae (Rm 18 nett)
Mi Gu French Toast V2.0 (Rm 25 nett)
Address: No. 6, Jalan Imigresen, 10400, Georgetown, Penang.
Business Hours: [Lunch] Every Saturday and Sunday at 11 am to 3 pm; [Dinner] Every Friday to Sunday at 6 pm to 10:30 pm. Closed on Weekdays.
Contact Number: 6012- 373 9523

Full story to be shared on Ken Hunts Food in the next few days!