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Avril Coleridge-Taylor continually felt the burden of her father’s reputation. As the offspring of the celebrated composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, one of the most famous English artists of the 1900s, her name was shrouded in the lingering obscurity of history.

An Inaugural Recording

Earlier this year, I contemplated these memories as I got ready to record the first-ever recording of the composer’s concerto for piano composed in 1936. With its emotional harmonies, soulful lyricism, and valiant rhythms, her composition will offer new listeners fascinating insight into how the composer – an artist in conflict originating from the early 1900s – imagined her existence as a female composer of color.

Shadows and Truth

However about shadows. It requires time to adapt, to see shapes as they actually appear, to tell reality from misrepresentation, and I was reluctant to face her history for a period.

I deeply hoped her to be a reflection of her father. To some extent, she was. The pastoral English palettes of her father’s impact can be observed in numerous compositions, for example From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). Yet it suffices to look at the names of her parent’s works to understand how he viewed himself as not only a standard-bearer of UK romantic tradition as well as a advocate of the African heritage.

At this point parent and child began to differ.

American society assessed the composer by the excellence of his art as opposed to the his ethnicity.

Samuel’s African Roots

During his studies at the renowned institution, her father – the son of a Sierra Leonean father and a white English mother – started to lean into his heritage. When the Black American writer the renowned Dunbar visited the UK in that era, the 21-year-old composer actively pursued him. He composed this literary work as a composition and the following year adapted his verses for a stage piece, Dream Lovers. Then came the choral composition that established his reputation: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Drawing from the poet Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, Samuel’s Hiawatha was an global success, particularly among African Americans who felt vicarious pride as white America evaluated the composer by the brilliance of his compositions instead of the colour of his skin.

Principles and Actions

Recognition failed to diminish Samuel’s politics. In 1900, he was present at the pioneering African conference in the UK where he made the acquaintance of the Black American thinker WEB Du Bois and saw a range of talks, including on the oppression of African people in South Africa. He was a campaigner to his final days. He sustained relationships with pioneers of civil rights including Du Bois and this leader, gave addresses on equality for all, and even talked about matters of race with the American leader on a trip to the US capital in that year. As for his music, Du Bois recalled, “he established his reputation so prominently as a creative artist that it cannot soon be forgotten.” He succumbed in 1912, aged 37. However, how would the composer have made of his child’s choice to travel to this country in the mid-20th century?

Issues and Stance

“Offspring of Renowned Musician expresses approval to South African policy,” declared a title in the community journal Jet magazine. The system “appeared to me the appropriate course”, Avril told Jet. Upon further questioning, she qualified her remarks: she didn’t agree with the system “in principle” and it “ought to be permitted to run its course, guided by good-intentioned residents of diverse ethnicities”. If Avril had been more in tune to her family’s principles, or born in segregated America, she may have reconsidered about apartheid. However, existence had shielded her.

Heritage and Innocence

“I hold a English document,” she stated, “and the officials failed to question me about my race.” Thus, with her “fair” appearance (as described), she floated among the Europeans, supported by their acclaim for her late father. She presented about her family’s work at the Cape Town university and conducted the national orchestra in Johannesburg, including the inspiring part of her composition, subtitled: “Dedicated to my Father.” While a accomplished player personally, she did not perform as the featured artist in her piece. Instead, she consistently conducted as the maestro; and so the segregated ensemble performed under her direction.

The composer aspired, according to her, she “could introduce a transformation”. However, by that year, things fell apart. Once officials became aware of her mixed background, she could no longer stay the country. Her British passport didn’t protect her, the diplomatic official advised her to leave or face arrest. She came home, embarrassed as the magnitude of her naivety dawned. “The lesson was a painful one,” she lamented. Increasing her embarrassment was the release in 1955 of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her unceremonious exit from South Africa.

A Common Narrative

While I reflected with these shadows, I perceived a familiar story. The narrative of being British until it’s revoked – that brings to mind troops of color who fought on behalf of the English throughout the second world war and made it through but were denied their due compensation. Including those from Windrush,