🔗 Share this article

Avril Coleridge-Taylor always bore the pressure of her father’s heritage. As the offspring of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, among the best-known British artists of the 1900s, Avril’s identity was enveloped in the long shadows of history.

A World Premiere

In recent months, I reflected on these memories as I made arrangements to produce the world premiere recording of the composer’s 1936 piano concerto. Featuring impassioned harmonies, heartfelt tunes, and valiant rhythms, Avril’s work will grant audiences valuable perspective into how this artist – an artist in conflict originating from the early 1900s – imagined her existence as a female composer of color.

Past and Present

But here’s the thing about the past. It can take a while to adapt, to perceive forms as they really are, to tell reality from misinterpretation, and I had been afraid to confront Avril’s past for a period.

I had so wanted Avril to be following in her father’s footsteps. To some extent, this was true. The rustic British sounds of parental inspiration can be observed in several pieces, including From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). Yet it suffices to look at the headings of her father’s compositions to realize how he viewed himself as not only a standard-bearer of English Romanticism as well as a representative of the African diaspora.

This was where father and daughter began to differ.

American society assessed the composer by the brilliance of his music rather than the colour of his skin.

Family Background

As a student at the renowned institution, Samuel – the son of a African father and a British mother – started to lean into his background. At the time the African American poet Paul Laurence Dunbar came to London in the late 19th century, the young musician eagerly sought him out. He adapted the poet’s African Romances to music and the subsequent year adapted his verses for a stage piece, Dream Lovers. Then came the choral composition that established his reputation: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Based on this American writer’s The Song of Hiawatha, this composition was an worldwide sensation, notably for Black Americans who felt shared pride as American society assessed his work by the brilliance of his compositions as opposed to the colour of his skin.

Advocacy and Beliefs

Fame did not reduce Samuel’s politics. During that period, he participated in the initial Pan African gathering in England where he made the acquaintance of the African American intellectual this influential figure and witnessed a series of speeches, such as the mistreatment of Black South Africans. He remained an advocate to his final days. He sustained relationships with early civil rights leaders like Du Bois and Booker T Washington, gave addresses on ending discrimination, and even discussed matters of race with President Theodore Roosevelt on a trip to the US capital in 1904. Regarding his compositions, reminisced Du Bois, “he made his mark so notably as a creative artist that it will endure.” He succumbed in that year, in his thirties. But what would her father have reacted to his daughter’s decision to work in South Africa in the 1950s?

Controversy and Apartheid

“Daughter of Famous Composer shows support to South African policy,” ran a headline in the Black American publication Jet magazine. The system “struck me as the appropriate course”, the composer stated Jet. When pushed to clarify, she revised her statement: she did not support with the system “as a concept” and it “should be allowed to resolve itself, directed by well-meaning people of diverse ethnicities”. Had Avril been more attuned to her father’s politics, or born in Jim Crow America, she might have thought twice about apartheid. But life had sheltered her.

Background and Inexperience

“I possess a British passport,” she stated, “and the government agents did not inquire me about my race.” So, with her “light” appearance (as Jet put it), she moved within European circles, supported by their acclaim for her deceased parent. She gave a talk about her family’s work at the University of Cape Town and led the national orchestra in that location, including the inspiring part of her concerto, subtitled: “In remembrance of my Father.” Although a skilled pianist personally, she avoided playing as the featured artist in her concerto. Rather, she consistently conducted as the conductor; and so the apartheid orchestra played under her baton.

Avril hoped, as she stated, she “may foster a transformation”. But by 1954, things fell apart. After authorities discovered her Black ancestry, she was forced to leave the land. Her British passport offered no defense, the diplomatic official recommended her departure or be jailed. She returned to England, deeply ashamed as the scale of her innocence dawned. “This experience was a painful one,” she expressed. Compounding her humiliation was the printing that year of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her unceremonious exit from South Africa.

A Common Narrative

While I reflected with these legacies, I perceived a familiar story. The story of being British until it’s revoked – which recalls Black soldiers who defended the UK during the global conflict and survived only to be not given their earned rewards. Including those from Windrush,