🔗 Share this article

Avril Coleridge-Taylor continually bore the burden of her parent’s legacy. Being the child of the renowned Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, one of the prominent British artists of the turn of the 20th century, her identity was cloaked in the long shadows of the past.

An Inaugural Recording

Not long ago, I reflected on these memories as I prepared to record the inaugural album of her piano concerto from 1936. Boasting impassioned harmonies, soulful lyricism, and confident beats, Avril’s work will provide audiences valuable perspective into how she – a composer during war originating from the early 1900s – conceived of her existence as a woman of colour.

Past and Present

However about legacies. It requires time to adjust, to recognize outlines as they actually appear, to tell reality from misrepresentation, and I had been afraid to face Avril’s past for a period.

I earnestly desired Avril to be a reflection of her father. To some extent, this was true. The rustic British sounds of Samuel’s influence can be heard in many of her works, such as From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). But you only have to look at the headings of her father’s compositions to see how he viewed himself as both a flag bearer of English Romanticism as well as a voice of the African diaspora.

It was here that father and daughter appeared to part ways.

White America evaluated Samuel by the excellence of his art as opposed to the his ethnicity.

Family Background

While he was studying at the renowned institution, Samuel – the son of a Sierra Leonean father and a British mother – turned toward his background. Once the poet of color Paul Laurence Dunbar came to London in the late 19th century, the 21-year-old composer actively pursued him. He adapted Dunbar’s African Romances to music and the next year incorporated his poetry for a musical work, Dream Lovers. Then came the choral piece that established his reputation: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Drawing from the poet Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, this composition was an international hit, notably for the Black community who felt vicarious pride as American society evaluated the composer by the excellence of his compositions rather than the colour of his skin.

Advocacy and Beliefs

Recognition failed to diminish his activism. During that period, he was present at the initial Pan African gathering in England where he encountered the prominent scholar WEB Du Bois and witnessed a range of talks, including on the oppression of the Black community there. He was a campaigner until the end. He kept connections with trailblazers for equality such as Du Bois and Booker T Washington, gave addresses on ending discrimination, and even engaged in dialogue on matters of race with the US President during an invitation to the presidential residence in 1904. As for his music, Du Bois recalled, “he made his mark so notably as a composer that it will long be remembered.” He died in 1912, aged 37. But what would Samuel have made of his offspring’s move to be in this country in the that decade?

Issues and Stance

“Child of Celebrated Artist gives OK to South African policy,” ran a headline in the African American magazine Jet magazine. The system “seems to me the right policy”, she informed Jet. Upon further questioning, she revised her statement: she didn’t agree with this policy “as a concept” and it “could be left to work itself out, directed by good-intentioned people of diverse ethnicities”. Were the composer more aligned to her father’s politics, or from Jim Crow America, she may have reconsidered about apartheid. However, existence had shielded her.

Background and Inexperience

“I possess a British passport,” she said, “and the government agents did not inquire me about my race.” Therefore, with her “fair” appearance (according to the magazine), she moved alongside white society, supported by their acclaim for her renowned family member. She delivered a lecture about her parent’s compositions at the University of Cape Town and directed the national orchestra in the city, including the heroic third movement of her composition, named: “Dedicated to my Father.” Although a skilled pianist personally, she never played as the lead performer in her concerto. Rather, she invariably directed as the leader; and so the apartheid orchestra followed her lead.

Avril hoped, as she stated, she “could introduce a transformation”. Yet in the mid-1950s, the situation collapsed. Once officials learned of her African heritage, she could no longer stay the land. Her UK document offered no defense, the diplomatic official advised her to leave or be jailed. She returned to England, feeling great shame as the scale of her naivety dawned. “The realization was a difficult one,” she lamented. Increasing her disgrace was the printing that year of her controversial discussion, a year after her sudden departure from that nation.

A Recurring Theme

Upon contemplating with these legacies, I felt a recurring theme. The account of holding UK citizenship until it’s challenged – which recalls African-descended soldiers who fought on behalf of the English in the World War II and survived only to be refused rightful benefits. Including those from Windrush,