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

Avril Coleridge-Taylor constantly felt the weight of her family heritage. Being the child of the renowned Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, among the most famous UK musicians of the turn of the 20th century, the composer’s name was enveloped in the deep shadows of history.

A World Premiere

Not long ago, I sat with these legacies as I prepared to produce the world premiere recording of the composer’s concerto for piano composed in 1936. With its emotional harmonies, heartfelt tunes, and valiant rhythms, her composition will offer music lovers valuable perspective into how she – a wartime composer born in 1903 – envisioned her world as a female composer of color.

Past and Present

However about the past. It requires time to adapt, to perceive forms as they really are, to distinguish truth from distortion, and I felt hesitant to confront her history for a while.

I deeply hoped her to be following in her father’s footsteps. To some extent, this was true. The rustic British sounds of Samuel’s influence can be observed in many of her works, such as From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). However, one need only look at the titles of her family’s music to realize how he heard himself as both a flag bearer of British Romantic style as well as a voice of the African heritage.

It was here that Samuel and Avril began to differ.

The United States assessed the composer by the brilliance of his compositions as opposed to the colour of his skin.

Parental Heritage

During his studies at the prestigious music college, her father – the child of a African father and a British mother – began embracing his background. At the time the Black American writer Paul Laurence Dunbar came to London in that era, the young musician eagerly sought him out. He adapted the poet’s African Romances as a composition and the following year adapted his verses for a musical work, Dream Lovers. Then came the choral piece that established his reputation: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Inspired by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, the piece was an international hit, particularly among African Americans who felt vicarious pride as white America judged Samuel by the brilliance of his music as opposed to the his background.

Activism and Politics

Recognition did not temper his activism. At the turn of the century, he was present at the First Pan African Conference in London where he made the acquaintance of the prominent scholar this influential figure and witnessed a series of speeches, such as the oppression of the Black community there. He was a campaigner until the end. He sustained relationships with trailblazers for equality such as this intellectual and this leader, spoke publicly on equality for all, and even discussed racial problems with the US President during an invitation to the presidential residence in the early 1900s. As for his music, the scholar reflected, “he made his mark so prominently as a creative artist that it cannot soon be forgotten.” He passed away in 1912, aged 37. But what would the composer have reacted to his child’s choice to travel to South Africa in the that decade?

Controversy and Apartheid

“Daughter of Famous Composer shows support to South African policy,” declared a title in the community journal Jet magazine. The system “appeared to me the correct approach”, Avril told Jet. Upon further questioning, she revised her statement: she didn’t agree with apartheid “fundamentally” and it “ought to be permitted to run its course, guided by good-intentioned residents of every background”. Were the composer more attuned to her family’s principles, or raised in the US under segregation, she might have thought twice about apartheid. Yet her life had sheltered her.

Identity and Naivety

“I hold a UK passport,” she said, “and the authorities never asked me about my race.” Therefore, with her “fair” complexion (as Jet put it), she moved among the Europeans, buoyed up by their acclaim for her late father. She presented about her family’s work at the University of Cape Town and conducted the broadcasting ensemble in the city, including the bold final section of her Piano Concerto, subtitled: “In remembrance of my Father.” While a skilled pianist on her own, she avoided playing as the lead performer in her piece. On the contrary, she consistently conducted as the leader; and so the segregated ensemble performed under her direction.

Avril hoped, as she stated, she “may foster a change”. Yet in the mid-1950s, the situation collapsed. Once officials became aware of her African heritage, she could no longer stay the country. Her British passport offered no defense, the UK representative recommended her departure or risk imprisonment. She returned to England, feeling great shame as the extent of her inexperience became clear. “The lesson was a painful one,” she lamented. Compounding her disgrace was the printing that year of her ill-fated Jet interview, a year after her unceremonious exit from South Africa.

A Common Narrative

As I sat with these shadows, I perceived a known narrative. The account of identifying as British until you’re not – that brings to mind African-descended soldiers who served for the English during the global conflict and lived only to be refused rightful benefits. Along with the Windrush era,