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Avril Coleridge-Taylor always experienced the pressure of her father’s heritage. As the offspring of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, among the prominent UK musicians of the early 20th century, the composer’s name was cloaked in the long shadows of the past.

A World Premiere

In recent months, I reflected on these memories as I got ready to produce the inaugural album of her concerto for piano composed in 1936. Featuring impassioned harmonies, heartfelt tunes, and confident beats, Avril’s work will grant new listeners deep understanding into how she – an artist in conflict originating from the early 1900s – envisioned her reality as a artist with mixed heritage.

Legacy and Reality

However about shadows. It can take a while to adjust, to perceive forms as they really are, to distinguish truth from misinterpretation, and I had been afraid to address Avril’s past for some time.

I had so wanted Avril to be a reflection of her father. Partially, she was. The idyllic English tones of her father’s impact can be observed in several pieces, for example From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). Yet it suffices to look at the headings of her family’s music to realize how he identified as not only a standard-bearer of English Romanticism as well as a representative of the African diaspora.

It was here that parent and child began to differ.

White America evaluated Samuel by the brilliance of his music as opposed to the colour of his skin.

Parental Heritage

As a student at the Royal College of Music, Samuel – the son of a Sierra Leonean father and a Caucasian parent – began embracing his heritage. When the poet of color Paul Laurence Dunbar visited the UK in the late 19th century, the 21-year-old composer eagerly sought him out. He composed this literary work as a composition and the next year adapted his verses for an opera, Dream Lovers. Subsequently arrived the choral piece that made him famous: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Based on Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, the piece was an global success, especially with African Americans who felt vicarious pride as American society judged Samuel by the quality of his art rather than the his race.

Activism and Politics

Success did not temper Samuel’s politics. In 1900, he was present at the initial Pan African gathering in London where he made the acquaintance of the Black American thinker the renowned Du Bois and saw a range of talks, covering the mistreatment of Black South Africans. He was a campaigner to his final days. He kept connections with pioneers of civil rights including this intellectual and this leader, gave addresses on equality for all, and even engaged in dialogue on issues of racism with the US President on a trip to the White House in that year. Regarding his compositions, Du Bois recalled, “he established his reputation so notably as a musician that it cannot soon be forgotten.” He died in the early 20th century, aged 37. But what would her father have made of his offspring’s move to work in this country in the that decade?

Conflict and Policy

“Child of Celebrated Artist gives OK to S African Bias,” appeared as a heading in the Black American publication Jet magazine. This policy “appeared to me the appropriate course”, Avril told Jet. When asked to explain, she revised her statement: she didn’t agree with apartheid “fundamentally” and it “could be left to resolve itself, guided by good-intentioned residents of all races”. If Avril had been more aligned to her father’s politics, or from Jim Crow America, she could have hesitated about apartheid. But life had shielded her.

Identity and Naivety

“I possess a British passport,” she said, “and the government agents failed to question me about my background.” So, with her “porcelain-white” skin (as described), she floated alongside white society, supported by their praise for her renowned family member. She gave a talk about her father’s music at the educational institution and directed the South African Broadcasting Corporation Orchestra in Johannesburg, including the inspiring part of her Piano Concerto, subtitled: “In memory of my Father.” Even though a accomplished player personally, she never played as the soloist in her work. Instead, she invariably directed as the conductor; and so the apartheid orchestra followed her lead.

The composer aspired, as she stated, she “may foster a change”. But by 1954, the situation collapsed. After authorities learned of her mixed background, she could no longer stay the land. Her UK document failed to safeguard her, the UK representative advised her to leave or risk imprisonment. She returned to England, deeply ashamed as the extent of her naivety dawned. “The realization was a difficult one,” she stated. Compounding her disgrace was the 1955 publication of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her unceremonious exit from South Africa.

A Familiar Story

While I reflected with these legacies, I felt a familiar story. The narrative of being British until it’s revoked – that brings to mind Black soldiers who fought on behalf of the English in the global conflict and lived only to be denied their due compensation. Including those from Windrush,