Recording weekend with Scott Hamilton

It’s a quiet Saturday morning when we unlock the doors and step into the building to start preparing for the recording session of The Ghost, the King and I, featuring the legendary American saxophonist Scott Hamilton and, for this special concert, a beautiful string trio that gently expands the palette beyond what we normally capture with the core group.

As sound engineer at Sound Liaison, I’ve done many sessions here in this building, and I know the rhythms of a recording weekend by heart: the early setup, the first coffee, the careful microphone placement, the endless small decisions that ultimately shape the emotional truth of a record. But this weekend already feels different, because for once, we’re not in our familiar Studio 2. This time, we’re recording in Studio 1.

Studio 1 is an entirely different beast. It was designed not just as a recording studio but as a full concert space, complete with a permanent grandstand seating area for more than 400 people. We’re expecting a significantly larger audience than usual for this performance, so moving into Studio 1 is the right choice logistically. And honestly? It’s no punishment at all. The acoustics in this room are fantastic: open, lively, responsive, almost like the space is a musical instrument itself. And it doesn’t hurt that the studio houses a truly magnificent Steinway D. The piano alone can make engineers smile before a single note is recorded. The room is undeniably more “alive” than Studio 2, which can sometimes be challenging for instruments like drums. But for strings, and also for saxophone, this is very comfortable: it gives the sound room to breathe, to bloom, and to carry naturally into the audience.

The trio at the heart of the project is led by Rob van Bavel on piano. Around him are the familiar personalities that define the group’s identity: Frans van Geest - “the Ghost” - on double bass and Vincent Koning - “the King” - on guitar. Together, they form that rare kind of ensemble that doesn’t merely play together but speaks as a single musical voice. And then there’s the added dimension: the string trio, Salon the Musique, brought in specially for this concert. They have traveled all the way from Korea, and from the first notes during soundcheck, we know we’re dealing with musicians of exceptional unity. Their internal timing and blend is remarkable, tight and polished, but never stiff. Most importantly, they don’t sit “on top” of the trio; they integrate. They weave themselves into the texture as though they’ve been part of this band for years.

 

Rob has written the arrangements specifically to allow the strings to strengthen the trio (plus Scott) across many of the pieces, not as decoration, but as real musical architecture. That creates not only a richer harmonic landscape, but also a different kind of responsibility for us in the control room. Strings demand clarity, depth, and honesty. They reveal every weakness in an acoustic environment and every strength too. 

Saturday is largely dedicated to soundcheck and building the foundation. Scott won’t join us until Sunday morning, so the first day is about getting everything positioned, aligned, and ready for a recording chain that can do justice to the room and the musicians. Just like in some other Sound Liaison projects, we record in DSD256. It remains my favorite format for sessions like this, especially when we want an organic sound that feels tactile and real. This combination of instruments, this room, and this repertoire is simply ideal for it. We’re after something that doesn’t feel “produced,” but rather captured: a natural flow where every instrument has space and definition, yet everything blends into one coherent musical image.

Our converters are positioned directly on the recording floor. From there, the signal travels over the network to the DA converter feeding into our trusted Studer 961 analog mixing console. This console is where the heart of our balance is created. We build the mix as we go, carefully shaping levels and adding only a touch of reverb when needed, not to fabricate a space, but to gently enhance what is already present in Studio 1. The acoustic information in this room is so rich that you hear not only the instruments, but also the air around them, the resonance and depth that makes you forget you’re listening to a recording. The stereo output of the console is then captured in real time back into the same session, written as a pure DSD256 master.

For this weekend, we made a deliberate choice: rather than relying on a minimalist “one mic” concept, we decided to individually mic the instruments. We already have a specific sound in mind, and we need the ability to craft a perfect and stable balance on the console, especially given the complexity of the ensemble and the limited time Scott will have to rehearse in the room. With a one-mic setup, we’d risk losing precious time with positioning and performance logistics. This approach gives us control without compromising naturalism, as long as we respect the space and avoid over-isolation. Still, we do want to preserve the elegance of a main capture for Scott, so we place the Josephson C700S as his main microphone. It gives us not only a beautiful focus on his tone, but also stereo information from the ensemble around him, just enough to keep the bigger picture connected.

 

Then Sunday arrives. Scott walks into the hall a few hours before the concert, calm and curious, and within minutes it’s clear he’s genuinely impressed by the room. During rehearsal, he listens carefully, not only to the musicians, but to the way the space responds to him. And when he starts to play, I’m reminded once again why his name carries such weight: that tone is unmistakable. Full, warm, confident, but never aggressive. It’s the sound of experience and musical patience. As the audience begins to fill the seats, the energy shifts. Studio 1 transforms from a quiet working space into a living concert hall. A near-capacity crowd settles in, and the anticipation is tangible.

The band walks on stage. The first notes float into the room, and in the control room, where I’m sitting together with Peter Bjørnild as producer, we both get that familiar feeling: immediate goosebumps. It’s not just “good sound.” It’s one of those rare moments where everything is aligned: musicianship, acoustics, arrangement, performance and capture. When the string trio joins, that feeling returns again, stronger. Everything falls into place. The sound expands without losing focus. The ensemble breathes like a single organism. It becomes clear that this is not just a concert we happen to be recording, it’s a recording that happens to be a concert.

After the final applause, the audience is exuberant. As usual, a few enthusiastic listeners are invited to join us in the control room to hear excerpts. And one of the best moments of the entire weekend is seeing Scott himself sit down in the main seat, eyes closed, simply listening, taking in what we managed to capture.



At that point, we already know: this is special. So special, in fact, that we decided this album won’t live only in the digital world. We commit to releasing it not only digitally, but also as a hybrid SACD, a format that matches the ambition of the recording and preserves the integrity of the DSD work from beginning to end. All in all, it was a thrilling adventure: a new room, a bigger audience, a richer ensemble, and the rare privilege of capturing Scott Hamilton in full flight, surrounded by musicians who play with heart, taste and absolute class. Some weekends remind you why you do this work.

This was one of them.

Frans