Local pianist Martha James plays from her soul
by Mike Gibson
It's sometimes hard to figure Martha James. An accomplished, traveled local artist and musician, she's bright, incisively witty, and very far from naive. But her abiding faith in the transcendency of the arts is as wide-eyed and refreshing as that of some 20-year-old coffee house ingenue.
"When I play, it gives me a chance to spread the gospel of love through music," says James, a classical pianist who is both star and co-founder of Fairbanks Roasting Room's monthly Symphony Thursdays performances downtown.
"The music that I pick is not arbitrary," she continues, relaxing in the pastel comfort of her cozy South Knoxville home on a Tuesday afternoon. "It's music that touched me, that broke through my own defenses, walls of sadness. And when someone comes up and says 'that was beautiful,' that they were somehow touched, that makes me think that life is good."
James is a compelling figure, personally as well as artistically. In her early forties, she's beautiful, willowy and wintry-complected. She exudes an engaging mixture of shyness and radiant energy, with a voice that's as colorfully musical and full of whimsy as some woodland sonata.
She first performed at Fairbanks nearly three years ago, when she volunteered her services by playing classical pieces on the restaurant's stately grand piano for the edification of the Monday afternoon lunch crowd. Her playing was well-received, and the coffee house/fine diner soon thereafter began featuring other local performers on its makeshift stage.
The next year, Fairbanks initiated Symphony Thursdays Dinner Series, with live classical music, to capitalize on the pre-show crowd from the monthly Knoxville Symphony performances at the nearby Tennessee Theatre. James was the first person they called.
"It allows me to let my 'closet diva' come out," she says with a flutey chuckle. "I love to dress up, to pull out the sequins and the furs."
James describes herself as more a stylist than a technician. "I don't have the technique that a 'serious student' has; I'm not a virtuoso."
But even a cursory listen to her spirited playing will tell you that words like "technician" and "virtuoso" are very relative terms, especially within the rarefied vernacular of so-called serious classical music. James's interpretations of works such as Chopin's Waltz in D Flat, or her arrangment of Villa-Lobos' Bachianas Brasileiras are marked by the sort of grace and finesse that is little heard in the work of so many popular ivory ticklers.
"When I was first playing, I could hit all the notes and play all the scales, but I knew I wasn't playing expressively," she explains, attributing her improvement to the private instruction of UT piano teacher David Northington. "My goal was always to play expressively. [Northington] essentially re-taught me to play, to think about phrasing, to express ideas and melodies instead of just punching keys."
James doesn't care much to extend her regular solo piano forays beyond the confines of her monthly Fairbanks gig. She says she has too many other responsibilities—as an artist, as a mother, and as a once-and-future Metro Pulse employee (she'll be taking over as our new art director next month). But her artistic presence can nonetheless be felt throughout the Knoxville arts community.
Besides playing a number of recitals at area houses of worship, James has often appeared locally as an accompanist to other musicians and singers, and served as muse, manager and motivator for several Knoxville arts collaborations. For five years, she acted as organizer for the annual Classics at the Laurel series, which brought fine classical performances to the stage of the city's most eclectic theater. And more recently, she spearheaded a multi-media tribute to the music of composer Maurice Ravel—one of James' personal favorites—an evening of music, poetry, dance and visual art, the proceeds from which benefited the city's Circle Modern Dance group.
"I think that's the kind of thing best suited to me, things that involve collaboration," James says. "I prefer partnerships, where you're creating something with someone that's greater than just the two of you.
"The arts, to me, aren't about 'self,' but they are about being more human. They're about making us more humane and more gentle and less warlike. Whenever I play, I say a little prayer. I ask that whoever needs to hear what the music has to say on that particular night, that they're out there somewhere in that audience."
May 23, 2002 * Vol. 12, No. 21
© 2002 Metro Pulse
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