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The composer Avril Coleridge-Taylor always bore the weight of her father’s legacy. As the offspring of the renowned Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, among the most famous English composers of the early 20th century, the composer’s reputation was shrouded in the lingering obscurity of history.

A World Premiere

Not long ago, I reflected on these shadows as I prepared to make the first-ever recording of her piano concerto from 1936. Featuring emotional harmonies, soulful lyricism, and bold rhythms, this piece will grant new listeners valuable perspective into how this artist – a composer during war born in 1903 – conceived of her reality as a female composer of color.

Past and Present

But here’s the thing about the past. It requires time to adjust, to recognize outlines as they really are, to separate fact from misrepresentation, and I was reluctant to face Avril’s past for a while.

I deeply hoped her to be a reflection of her father. To some extent, she was. The rustic British sounds of Samuel’s influence can be observed in many of her works, for example From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). Yet it suffices to review the names of her parent’s works to realize how he heard himself as not only a flag bearer of UK romantic tradition as well as a representative of the Black diaspora.

It was here that Samuel and Avril seemed to diverge.

The United States evaluated Samuel by the mastery of his art instead of the colour of his skin.

Samuel’s African Roots

During his studies at the prestigious music college, her father – the offspring of a parent from Sierra Leone and a white English mother – turned toward his heritage. Once the Black American writer the renowned Dunbar came to London in that era, the young musician was keen to meet him. He composed the poet’s African Romances as a composition and the subsequent year used the poet’s words for a musical work, Dream Lovers. This was followed by the choral piece that established his reputation: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Drawing from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, Samuel’s Hiawatha was an worldwide sensation, notably for Black Americans who felt vicarious pride as white America assessed his work by the brilliance of his art as opposed to the his race.

Principles and Actions

Success did not temper his activism. In 1900, he participated in the First Pan African Conference in the UK where he made the acquaintance of the Black American thinker this influential figure and observed a range of talks, covering the oppression of Black South Africans. He remained an advocate throughout his life. He maintained ties with trailblazers for equality including the scholar and Booker T Washington, delivered his own speeches on racial equality, and even talked about racial problems with the US President while visiting to the US capital in that year. In terms of his art, the scholar reflected, “he made his mark so notably as a musician that it cannot soon be forgotten.” He died in the early 20th century, in his thirties. Yet how might the composer have made of his daughter’s decision to be in South Africa in the that decade?

Issues and Stance

“Offspring of Renowned Musician shows support to apartheid system,” declared a title in the African American magazine Jet magazine. Apartheid “seems to me the right policy”, she informed Jet. When pushed to clarify, she qualified her remarks: she did not support with apartheid “in principle” and it “could be left to resolve itself, guided by benevolent people of diverse ethnicities”. Were the composer more aligned to her parent’s beliefs, or raised in segregated America, she could have hesitated about apartheid. But life had sheltered her.

Heritage and Innocence

“I have a English document,” she said, “and the authorities never asked me about my race.” So, with her “porcelain-white” skin (as described), she moved among the Europeans, buoyed up by their praise for her renowned family member. She gave a talk about her parent’s compositions at the educational institution and led the South African Broadcasting Corporation Orchestra in Johannesburg, programming the bold final section of her concerto, titled: “Dedicated to my Father.” While a skilled pianist herself, she did not perform as the featured artist in her piece. Rather, she invariably directed as the leader; and so the segregated ensemble followed her lead.

She desired, as she stated, she “could introduce a change”. But by 1954, circumstances deteriorated. When government agents became aware of her African heritage, she was forced to leave the land. Her citizenship failed to safeguard her, the diplomatic official recommended her departure or face arrest. She returned to England, deeply ashamed as the magnitude of her inexperience became clear. “This experience was a hard one,” she stated. Increasing her humiliation was the 1955 publication of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her unceremonious exit from the country.

A Common Narrative

While I reflected with these legacies, I felt a recurring theme. The narrative of holding UK citizenship until it’s revoked – that brings to mind African-descended soldiers who defended the British throughout the World War II and lived only to be not given their earned rewards. And the Windrush generation,