Since then, I've had only floorstanders, home-made and manufactured, and I never seriously considered owning small speakers again except, perhaps, as part of a surround sound system. With that bias, why am I reviewing the B&W 705 S3?
One reason is that I have, on many occasions, heard such speakers at showrooms and audio shows and found their competence and balance surprisingly enjoyable. Another reason is that I have lived with and loved several B&W 800-series speakers in years past. Many of the 800-series features trickled down to the 700 series. The 705 is one of three third-generation 700-series models (the other two being the 702 and 703 floorstanders) endowed with the 800's signature solid-body tweeter-on-top technology. The tweeter in both series has a carbon diaphragm; the one in the 800 series is just a different kind of carbon: diamond. How much of the thrill my 800-series speakers had evoked could the diminutive 705 rekindle?
Arrival and assembly Unboxing the two 705s, I was struck by the beautiful mocha veneer finish. Surfaces and edges were perfect. At the back, dual pairs of hefty silver binding posts are mounted on a substantial, highly polished plate above a textured, flared 2.5" bass port. On top, mounted compliantly, is the bullet-shaped tweeter enclosure. The 705 comes with soft rubber feet, but I used the recommended FS-700 S3 stands ($799 pair), which accompanied the review samples. These 24" stands are essential for situating the tweeters at ear level and to help position the speakers the proper distance from the listener and walls.
Assembly consisted of attaching the top and bottom plates to the post, mounting the spikes to the bottom plate, and attaching the top plate to the speakers, all accomplished with the provided screws and hex keys. The post encloses two channels: one for discreetly routing the cables to the rear of the speaker, the other for loading the stand with heavy damping material. The 705 and its stand form a rigid unit with matching curved edges and silver accents. A contoured black grille complements the ensemble.
In my listening room, the optimal position for the 705s was about 3.5' from each sidewall, 5' from the front wall, and 7' apart. Placing them farther back amplified the bass but muddied it too; spacing them farther apart did not expand the soundstage; it only blurred the images at center stage. Minimal toe-in expanded the soundstage while avoiding on-axis brightness. I adjusted my listening position to be 2' closer than usual, 9' away on the centerline.
Sitting and listening During setup, I listened to snippets selected for sound characteristics, not musical content, to accustom my ears and brain to the sonic signature of the 705s and smooth the transition from my resident speakers. Three qualities of the 705s immediately became evident: satisfying bass output (belied by their size), great detail and presence, and a wall-to-wall soundstage.
Having gotten a glimpse of their capability, instead of beginning with a piano recording as I customarily do, I went all-in and clicked on "Ja-Da!" from the album The Americus Brass Band Pays Tribute to James Reese Europe's Harlem Hell Fighters' Band (CD rip, Cambria Master Recordings CD-1263). The recording was made close up and captured the size, weight, and presence of the band, properties the 705s delivered fully and impressively. Instruments appeared spread out in the space between the speakers, enfolded in a broad acoustic space. The brass and winds, notably the treble winds, were clearly defined, and the tuba drove the rhythm as if it were basso continuo. The bass drum's accents were clear and tuneful. The physical impact of the bass drum and tuba that larger speakers can convey was absent with the 705, but the musical experience was realized completely.
Now I turned to piano, choosing France and Belgium, volume 4 of Gottlieb Wallisch's four-volume set, 20th Century Foxtrots (CD rip, Grand Piano Records GP855). This album begins with a Saint-Saëns tango, from his Lola, Op.116, which Wallisch plays with puckish flair, and continues with one delightful piece after another, many from unexpected sources. For me, the highlight of this album is Pierre-Octave Ferroud's disarming 13 Danses: The Bacchante, which is based on a familiar Bach theme. The 705s presented Wallisch's Steinway center stage and full-bodied and kept me tapping my toes throughout.
Another favorite was "The First Tears" by Eriks Eenvalds from the John Atkinsonengineered The Doors of Heaven (footnote 1), with the Portland State University Chamber Choir under Ethan Sperry (24/88.2 download, Naxos 8.579008). The song begins with a diaphanous layer of light voices, which the 705s presented with much air and detail. It becomes warm and intensifies as the mood darkens. That appealing transparency continued, but that darker mood was presented differently by the 705s than by previous speakers: Some reserve in the lower voices changed the tonal balance to be less reflective of the drama of the text. I doubt I would have noticed this subtle change were I not so familiar with this recording. It was certainly not enough to break the spell.
With the 705 S3s, the mid- to upper-bass range (where the vocals of "The First Tears" lie) was rendered clean, full, and tight over a wide range of recordings. The familiar classic "Keith Don't Go" from Acoustic Live (16/44.1, Vision Music/Qobuz) is a prime example. Nils Lofgren's guitar sounded big and ripe in the introduction and well-balanced throughout. Transients from his strings and the enveloping applause were crisp. His voice loomed over a vast soundstage in its true character and presence. The 705 S3s exceled here.
"Malena," from MA (SACD rip, MA Recordings, no catalog number; footnote 2), a track that conveys a huge sense of space, was truly impressive with the 705s. It was performed in a largely empty and reverberant though warm and calming space, the instruments and voices exposed within it. The pleasant surprise here was at the entry of the drum, which was both resonant and taut. Despite their relatively small size, the 705 S3s delivered it with visceral impact.
Footnote 1: "The First Tears" also appears on the 2016 album St Luke Passion/Sacred Works, with the Latvian Radio Choir, and on the 2017 album From the dim and distant past, with the State Choir Latvija.
Footnote 2: This track was originally released on Será Una Noche, MA Recordings M052A, in 1999.