Out of Obscurity: The Reasons Avril Coleridge-Taylor Warrants to Be Recognized
This talented musician always felt the weight of her parent’s reputation. As the daughter of the renowned Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, one of the most famous UK composers of the early 20th century, Avril’s reputation was cloaked in the lingering obscurity of the past.
An Inaugural Recording
Earlier this year, I reflected on these legacies as I got ready to make the first-ever recording of the composer’s 1936 piano concerto. Boasting impassioned harmonies, heartfelt tunes, and confident beats, this piece will offer new listeners deep understanding into how she – a composer during war who entered the world in 1903 – envisioned her existence as a woman of colour.
Legacy and Reality
But here’s the thing about shadows. One needs patience to adapt, to see shapes as they really are, to tell reality from misinterpretation, and I had been afraid to confront her history for a period.
I had so wanted Avril to be her father’s daughter. Partially, she was. The idyllic English tones of Samuel’s influence can be observed in many of her works, such as From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). Yet it suffices to review the titles of her parent’s works to see how he viewed himself as not only a standard-bearer of English Romanticism and also a voice of the African diaspora.
This was where Samuel and Avril seemed to diverge.
The United States judged Samuel by the mastery of his art instead of the colour of his skin.
Parental Heritage
During his studies at the prestigious music college, Samuel – the offspring of a African father and a Caucasian parent – turned toward his heritage. Once the poet of color Paul Laurence Dunbar visited the UK in the late 19th century, the 21-year-old composer was keen to meet him. He composed the poet’s African Romances to music and the next year incorporated his poetry for a musical work, Dream Lovers. Then came the choral work that put Samuel on the map: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.
Drawing from the poet Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, this composition was an global success, especially with Black Americans who felt indirect honor as white America judged Samuel by the brilliance of his music rather than the his race.
Activism and Politics
Recognition did not temper Samuel’s politics. In 1900, he attended the pioneering African conference in London where he encountered the African American intellectual this influential figure and witnessed a variety of discussions, covering the oppression of Black South Africans. He was a campaigner to his final days. He kept connections with early civil rights leaders such as the scholar and the educator Washington, delivered his own speeches on equality for all, and even talked about racial problems with the US President during an invitation to the White House in that year. As for his music, the scholar reflected, “he wrote his name so prominently as a musician that it will long be remembered.” He passed away in that year, in his thirties. Yet how might Samuel have made of his daughter’s decision to work in the African nation in the mid-20th century?
Conflict and Policy
“Child of Celebrated Artist expresses approval to S African Bias,” declared a title in the community journal Jet magazine. This policy “struck me as the right policy”, she informed Jet. Upon further questioning, she qualified her remarks: she did not support with apartheid “fundamentally” and it “ought to be permitted to work itself out, directed by benevolent South Africans of all races”. Had Avril been more in tune to her family’s principles, or raised in Jim Crow America, she could have hesitated about the policy. Yet her life had protected her.
Background and Inexperience
“I hold a English document,” she stated, “and the authorities failed to question me about my background.” Therefore, with her “fair” skin (according to the magazine), she moved within European circles, supported by their admiration for her late father. She gave a talk about her parent’s compositions at the University of Cape Town and directed the broadcasting ensemble in the city, including the inspiring part of her Piano Concerto, titled: “In remembrance of my Father.” Although a accomplished player on her own, she did not perform as the soloist in her concerto. Rather, she invariably directed as the leader; and so the segregated ensemble performed under her direction.
The composer aspired, as she stated, she “may foster a shift”. Yet in the mid-1950s, things fell apart. After authorities learned of her Black ancestry, she was forced to leave the land. Her UK document didn’t protect her, the UK representative urged her to go or face arrest. She returned to England, embarrassed as the magnitude of her inexperience was realized. “The lesson was a painful one,” she lamented. Compounding her disgrace was the 1955 publication of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her forced leaving from South Africa.
A Familiar Story
As I sat with these legacies, I sensed a recurring theme. The story of holding UK citizenship until it’s revoked – which recalls Black soldiers who fought on behalf of the UK during the global conflict and survived only to be denied their due compensation. Along with the Windrush era,