When Martha Marchena plays the piano a magical curtain of sound emerges from the instrument, spreads around like a sonorous, sensuous and at the same time intense perfume, and surrounds the listener softly but powerfully, making him or her aware that the musical rite taking place transcends virtuosity and technical sorcery, becoming a profound and lasting statement. Whether she plays Beethoven or Villa-Lobos, Szymanowski or Ginastera, or a son or a joropo, the Cuban born Marchena unveils the language of a composer with conviction and artistry, and the hearer always thanks her for enlightening a time and a style, and for transforming the act of striking white and black keys into a communion between a composition and an audience. At the end of one o her concerts, or when a recording of her stops at a given moment, one is left with a sense of spiritual and artistic fulfillment, quite beyond the boundaries of a mere musical happening. One keeps wondering, expectantly, when she will play again, in what part of the world would she be performing, when her next recording will come along. And then one listens afresh, attesting to her magnificent pianism, losing track of time and thinking that the promised paradise must be filled with the musical sounds she so beautifully produces.

Aurelio de la Vega
2000