Out of Obscurity: The Reasons Avril Coleridge-Taylor Deserves to Be Listened To
This talented musician continually felt the weight of her parent’s reputation. Being the child of the celebrated composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, among the most famous English artists of the turn of the 20th century, Avril’s reputation was enveloped in the deep shadows of history.
A World Premiere
Earlier this year, I sat with these legacies as I made arrangements to record the first-ever recording of the composer’s concerto for piano composed in 1936. Featuring impassioned harmonies, expressive melodies, and valiant rhythms, her composition will provide new listeners valuable perspective into how the composer – a composer during war originating from the early 1900s – conceived of her existence as a female composer of color.
Shadows and Truth
But here’s the thing about shadows. One needs patience to adapt, to recognize outlines as they really are, to tell reality from misrepresentation, and I had been afraid to face her history for a while.
I had so wanted the composer to be her father’s daughter. In some ways, she was. The pastoral English palettes of Samuel’s influence can be heard in several pieces, including From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). However, one need only examine the names of her father’s compositions to see how he identified as not only a standard-bearer of UK romantic tradition but a representative of the African heritage.
This was where father and daughter began to differ.
The United States assessed the composer by the brilliance of his compositions instead of the his racial background.
Family Background
During his studies at the Royal College of Music, Samuel – the offspring of a Sierra Leonean father and a Caucasian parent – began embracing his background. At the time the African American poet the renowned Dunbar arrived in England in 1897, the young musician was keen to meet him. He set Dunbar’s African Romances to music and the subsequent year incorporated his poetry for a stage piece, Dream Lovers. This was followed by the choral piece that put Samuel on the map: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.
Drawing from this American writer’s The Song of Hiawatha, the piece was an global success, notably for Black Americans who felt shared pride as the majority assessed his work by the quality of his art instead of the his background.
Principles and Actions
Fame did not temper his activism. During that period, he attended the First Pan African Conference in the UK where he made the acquaintance of the prominent scholar the renowned Du Bois and saw a range of talks, such as the subjugation of Black South Africans. He was an activist throughout his life. He maintained ties with trailblazers for equality such as the scholar and Booker T Washington, delivered his own speeches on racial equality, and even talked about racial problems with the American leader on a trip to the presidential residence in 1904. As for his music, Du Bois recalled, “he made his mark so prominently as a composer that it will endure.” He succumbed in the early 20th century, aged 37. However, how would the composer have made of his daughter’s decision to travel to the African nation in the mid-20th century?
Conflict and Policy
“Daughter of Famous Composer gives OK to apartheid system,” appeared as a heading in the Black American publication Jet magazine. This policy “appeared to me the correct approach”, the composer stated Jet. When pushed to clarify, she qualified her remarks: she was not in favor with apartheid “fundamentally” and it “could be left to run its course, directed by good-intentioned residents of all races”. Were the composer more attuned to her father’s politics, or born in the US under segregation, she might have thought twice about apartheid. However, existence had sheltered her.
Identity and Naivety
“I have a British passport,” she remarked, “and the government agents failed to question me about my race.” Therefore, with her “light” complexion (as described), she floated within European circles, lifted by their acclaim for her renowned family member. She gave a talk about her father’s music at the University of Cape Town and directed the national orchestra in Johannesburg, featuring the bold final section of her Piano Concerto, subtitled: “Dedicated to my Father.” Although a skilled pianist personally, she never played as the soloist in her work. Instead, she invariably directed as the conductor; and so the segregated ensemble performed under her direction.
Avril hoped, in her own words, she “might bring a change”. Yet in the mid-1950s, the situation collapsed. Once officials learned of her mixed background, she was forced to leave the country. Her citizenship offered no defense, the diplomatic official recommended her departure or face arrest. She went back to the UK, deeply ashamed as the scale of her naivety became clear. “The realization was a hard one,” she lamented. Adding to her embarrassment was the 1955 publication of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her forced leaving from the country.
A Familiar Story
While I reflected with these legacies, I sensed a recurring theme. The narrative of being British until it’s revoked – which recalls Black soldiers who fought on behalf of the UK during the World War II and survived only to be refused rightful benefits. And the Windrush generation,