The composer Avril Coleridge-Taylor continually bore the pressure of her parent’s legacy. Being the child of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, one of the prominent British composers of the early 20th century, Avril’s identity was cloaked in the lingering obscurity of bygone eras.
Earlier this year, I contemplated these legacies as I made arrangements to make the world premiere recording of her concerto for piano composed in 1936. Boasting intense musical themes, soulful lyricism, and confident beats, this piece will grant music lovers deep understanding into how the composer – a composer during war who entered the world in 1903 – envisioned her reality as a woman of colour.
Yet about the past. One needs patience to adjust, to recognize outlines as they truly exist, to separate fact from distortion, and I was reluctant to face Avril’s past for a period.
I earnestly desired her to be her father’s daughter. Partially, she was. The rustic British sounds of her father’s impact can be detected in numerous compositions, including From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). But you only have to look at the names of her family’s music to see how he viewed himself as both a champion of English Romanticism as well as a advocate of the African diaspora.
At this point father and daughter seemed to diverge.
The United States evaluated Samuel by the brilliance of his compositions as opposed to the his racial background.
As a student at the prestigious music college, Samuel – the son of a parent from Sierra Leone and a British mother – turned toward his background. When the African American poet Paul Laurence Dunbar visited the UK in the late 19th century, the aspiring artist actively pursued him. He set Dunbar’s African Romances to music and the next year adapted his verses for an opera, Dream Lovers. This was followed by the choral work that put Samuel on the map: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.
Drawing from the poet Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, Samuel’s Hiawatha was an global success, particularly among the Black community who felt indirect honor as white America judged Samuel by the quality of his compositions instead of the colour of his skin.
Fame did not temper his activism. At the turn of the century, he was present at the pioneering African conference in England where he met the Black American thinker the renowned Du Bois and witnessed a range of talks, such as the mistreatment of the Black community there. He was an activist throughout his life. He sustained relationships with pioneers of civil rights such as Du Bois and this leader, delivered his own speeches on racial equality, and even engaged in dialogue on matters of race with the American leader during an invitation to the US capital in 1904. Regarding his compositions, the scholar reflected, “he established his reputation so high as a musician that it will endure.” He passed away in 1912, at 37 years old. However, how would her father have made of his child’s choice to be in this country in the 1950s?
“Offspring of Renowned Musician shows support to S African Bias,” ran a headline in the community journal Jet magazine. The system “seems to me the appropriate course”, she informed Jet. When pushed to clarify, she revised her statement: she was not in favor with this policy “fundamentally” and it “could be left to run its course, overseen by well-meaning people of diverse ethnicities”. Had Avril been more aligned to her family’s principles, or from segregated America, she could have hesitated about apartheid. But life had sheltered her.
“I possess a British passport,” she stated, “and the officials did not inquire me about my background.” Thus, with her “fair” complexion (as described), she moved alongside white society, buoyed up by their admiration for her late father. She gave a talk about her father’s music at the Cape Town university and conducted the broadcasting ensemble in the city, including the inspiring part of her Piano Concerto, named: “In remembrance of my Father.” Even though a accomplished player personally, she never played as the lead performer in her work. On the contrary, she always led as the maestro; and so the segregated ensemble followed her lead.
She desired, according to her, she “could introduce a change”. Yet in the mid-1950s, circumstances deteriorated. Once officials learned of her mixed background, she had to depart the nation. Her citizenship failed to safeguard her, the British high commissioner urged her to go or risk imprisonment. She returned to England, deeply ashamed as the magnitude of her inexperience was realized. “This experience was a hard one,” she stated. Adding to her disgrace was the release in 1955 of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her sudden departure from South Africa.
While I reflected with these legacies, I sensed a familiar story. The narrative of identifying as British until you’re not – one that calls to mind African-descended soldiers who fought on behalf of the British during the second world war and survived only to be refused rightful benefits. Along with the Windrush era,
Elara is a seasoned writer and digital nomad who shares her adventures and expertise in lifestyle and technology.