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Avril Coleridge-Taylor continually bore the burden of her family reputation. As the daughter of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, among the most famous English artists of the 1900s, Avril’s name was enveloped in the deep shadows of bygone eras.

An Inaugural Recording

Earlier this year, I sat with these shadows as I got ready to record the first-ever recording of the composer’s concerto for piano composed in 1936. Boasting impassioned harmonies, heartfelt tunes, and bold rhythms, Avril’s work will provide music lovers fascinating insight into how this artist – an artist in conflict originating from the early 1900s – imagined her reality as a woman of colour.

Legacy and Reality

Yet about legacies. It can take a while to adjust, to recognize outlines as they truly exist, to distinguish truth from misrepresentation, and I was reluctant to address the composer’s background for a while.

I deeply hoped her to be a reflection of her father. To some extent, that held. The rustic British sounds of Samuel’s influence can be observed in several pieces, for example From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). Yet it suffices to examine the headings of her parent’s works to see how he viewed himself as not only a champion of English Romanticism but a advocate of the African diaspora.

At this point Samuel and Avril appeared to part ways.

White America assessed the composer by the brilliance of his art rather than the colour of his skin.

Samuel’s African Roots

During his studies at the prestigious music college, the composer – the child of a African father and a Caucasian parent – turned toward his heritage. When the African American poet Paul Laurence Dunbar arrived in England in that era, the young musician eagerly sought him out. He set the poet’s African Romances to music and the subsequent year adapted his verses for a stage piece, Dream Lovers. This was followed by the choral composition that made him famous: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Inspired by this American writer’s The Song of Hiawatha, the piece was an worldwide sensation, notably for the Black community who felt shared pride as American society judged Samuel by the excellence of his music rather than the his race.

Advocacy and Beliefs

Fame failed to diminish Samuel’s politics. At the turn of the century, he was present at the First Pan African Conference in London where he encountered the prominent scholar this influential figure and witnessed a series of speeches, including on the mistreatment of Black South Africans. He was a campaigner throughout his life. He sustained relationships with pioneers of civil rights such as Du Bois and the educator Washington, spoke publicly on ending discrimination, and even talked about issues of racism with President Theodore Roosevelt on a trip to the White House in 1904. In terms of his art, reminisced Du Bois, “he wrote his name so notably as a creative artist that it will long be remembered.” He died in that year, in his thirties. Yet how might the composer have reacted to his daughter’s decision to be in the African nation in the 1950s?

Controversy and Apartheid

“Daughter of Famous Composer expresses approval to South African policy,” declared a title in the African American magazine Jet magazine. The system “struck me as the right policy”, she informed Jet. Upon further questioning, she revised her statement: she was not in favor with this policy “fundamentally” and it “ought to be permitted to work itself out, overseen by good-intentioned residents of every background”. Were the composer more in tune to her father’s politics, or from segregated America, she may have reconsidered about apartheid. Yet her life had sheltered her.

Identity and Naivety

“I have a UK passport,” she stated, “and the government agents did not inquire me about my race.” Thus, with her “light” complexion (as described), she floated within European circles, supported by their acclaim for her late father. She delivered a lecture about her family’s work at the educational institution and led the national orchestra in that location, programming the heroic third movement of her composition, subtitled: “In memory of my Father.” Although a skilled pianist personally, she did not perform as the soloist in her work. Rather, she invariably directed as the leader; and so the orchestra of the era performed under her direction.

She desired, as she stated, she “could introduce a transformation”. However, by that year, things fell apart. After authorities became aware of her mixed background, she was forced to leave the nation. Her citizenship offered no defense, the diplomatic official recommended her departure or face arrest. She went back to the UK, embarrassed as the extent of her innocence dawned. “This experience was a hard one,” she stated. Adding to her humiliation was the printing that year of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her forced leaving from South Africa.

A Recurring Theme

As I sat with these legacies, I sensed a familiar story. The story of identifying as British until it’s challenged – which recalls troops of color who defended the English throughout the second world war and survived only to be not given their earned rewards. Along with the Windrush era,