Stepping from Obscurity: Why Avril Coleridge-Taylor Deserves to Be Heard

The composer Avril Coleridge-Taylor always felt the weight of her father’s heritage. As the daughter of the renowned Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, among the most famous English artists of the turn of the 20th century, Avril’s name was cloaked in the long shadows of the past.

The First Recording

In recent months, I contemplated these legacies as I prepared to record the first-ever recording of Avril’s concerto for piano composed in 1936. Boasting impassioned harmonies, soulful lyricism, and valiant rhythms, her composition will offer new listeners deep understanding into how she – an artist in conflict born in 1903 – envisioned her world as a woman of colour.

Past and Present

But here’s the thing about the past. It requires time to adapt, to perceive forms as they really are, to distinguish truth from misinterpretation, and I was reluctant to face Avril’s past for a while.

I deeply hoped Avril to be following in her father’s footsteps. Partially, she was. The rustic British sounds of parental inspiration can be observed in numerous compositions, for example From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). But you only have to look at the headings of her parent’s works to see how he heard himself as not just a flag bearer of English Romanticism and also a representative of the Black diaspora.

It was here that parent and child appeared to part ways.

The United States judged Samuel by the brilliance of his compositions rather than the his racial background.

Parental Heritage

During his studies at the prestigious music college, the composer – the offspring of a African father and a British mother – began embracing his background. At the time the poet of color this literary figure arrived in England in that era, the young musician was keen to meet him. He adapted this literary work to music and the subsequent year used the poet’s words for a stage piece, Dream Lovers. This was followed by the choral composition that put Samuel on the map: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Drawing from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, the piece was an international hit, particularly among the Black community who felt indirect honor as American society judged Samuel by the excellence of his music as opposed to the colour of his skin.

Advocacy and Beliefs

Fame failed to diminish his activism. At the turn of the century, he participated in the pioneering African conference in London where he encountered the prominent scholar WEB Du Bois and saw a range of talks, including on the mistreatment of Black South Africans. He was an activist throughout his life. He kept connections with pioneers of civil rights like this intellectual and Booker T Washington, gave addresses on ending discrimination, and even discussed matters of race with the American leader on a trip to the White House in that year. In terms of his art, Du Bois recalled, “he established his reputation so prominently as a composer that it will endure.” He passed away in that year, at 37 years old. Yet how might her father have reacted to his offspring’s move to be in South Africa in the that decade?

Conflict and Policy

“Offspring of Renowned Musician gives OK to S African Bias,” appeared as a heading in the African American magazine Jet magazine. The system “struck me as the correct approach”, she informed Jet. Upon further questioning, she revised her statement: she didn’t agree with this policy “fundamentally” and it “could be left to resolve itself, overseen by good-intentioned residents of diverse ethnicities”. Had Avril been more aligned to her father’s politics, or raised in the US under segregation, she could have hesitated about apartheid. But life had protected her.

Identity and Naivety

“I possess a English document,” she stated, “and the authorities did not inquire me about my background.” Thus, with her “light” appearance (as Jet put it), she moved alongside white society, buoyed up by their admiration for her renowned family member. She delivered a lecture about her family’s work at the educational institution and led the broadcasting ensemble in that location, featuring the bold final section of her concerto, titled: “In memory of my Father.” Even though a accomplished player personally, she never played as the soloist in her piece. On the contrary, she invariably directed as the leader; and so the segregated ensemble played under her baton.

The composer aspired, as she stated, she “may foster a shift”. Yet in the mid-1950s, the situation collapsed. Once officials learned of her Black ancestry, she had to depart the country. Her citizenship failed to safeguard her, the diplomatic official recommended her departure or face arrest. She returned to England, embarrassed as the extent of her inexperience dawned. “The realization was a painful one,” she stated. Increasing her humiliation was the release in 1955 of her controversial discussion, a year after her unceremonious exit from South Africa.

A Recurring Theme

As I sat with these legacies, I sensed a familiar story. The story of being British until it’s revoked – one that calls to mind Black soldiers who defended the British during the World War II and survived only to be not given their earned rewards. And the Windrush generation,