Out of the Shadows: Why Avril Coleridge-Taylor Merits to Be Recognized
The composer Avril Coleridge-Taylor always felt the pressure of her father’s heritage. As the daughter of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, one of the best-known UK musicians of the turn of the 20th century, Avril’s reputation was enveloped in the long shadows of bygone eras.
The First Recording
Not long ago, I reflected on these shadows as I made arrangements to record the inaugural album of the composer’s piano concerto from 1936. Featuring impassioned harmonies, heartfelt tunes, and bold rhythms, this piece will provide new listeners valuable perspective into how this artist – a composer during war who entered the world in 1903 – conceived of her world as a woman of colour.
Shadows and Truth
Yet about legacies. It requires time to adjust, to perceive forms as they actually appear, to distinguish truth from distortion, and I felt hesitant to face the composer’s background for a period.
I had so wanted Avril to be a reflection of her father. Partially, she was. The idyllic English tones of parental inspiration can be heard in many of her works, such as From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). However, one need only look at the names of her parent’s works to see how he identified as not just a flag bearer of English Romanticism but a representative of the African diaspora.
At this point father and daughter began to differ.
The United States assessed the composer by the excellence of his art as opposed to the colour of his skin.
Parental Heritage
While he was studying at the prestigious music college, the composer – the child of a parent from Sierra Leone and a Caucasian parent – began embracing his heritage. Once the African American poet this literary figure visited the UK in the late 19th century, the aspiring artist eagerly sought him out. He adapted Dunbar’s African Romances as a composition and the following year used the poet’s words for a musical work, Dream Lovers. Then came the choral work that established his reputation: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.
Inspired by the poet 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 excellence of his music rather than the his race.
Principles and Actions
Success did not temper his beliefs. At the turn of the century, he participated in the pioneering African conference in the UK where he met the African American intellectual the renowned Du Bois and saw a series of speeches, such as the mistreatment of the Black community there. He was a campaigner to his final days. He kept connections with trailblazers for equality such as this intellectual and this leader, gave addresses on equality for all, and even engaged in dialogue on issues of racism with President Theodore Roosevelt during an invitation to the US capital in the early 1900s. In terms of his art, Du Bois recalled, “he made his mark so high as a musician that it cannot soon be forgotten.” He died in 1912, in his thirties. But what would her father have reacted to his child’s choice to be in South Africa in the that decade?
Issues and Stance
“Offspring of Renowned Musician gives OK to apartheid system,” declared a title in the community journal Jet magazine. Apartheid “appeared to me the appropriate course”, she informed Jet. Upon further questioning, she qualified her remarks: she was not in favor with this policy “fundamentally” and it “could be left to run its course, guided by benevolent people of every background”. If Avril had been more in tune to her parent’s beliefs, or raised in the US under segregation, she might have thought twice about the policy. But life had sheltered her.
Identity and Naivety
“I possess a UK passport,” she stated, “and the government agents never asked me about my background.” Therefore, with her “fair” complexion (according to the magazine), she traveled alongside white society, lifted by their acclaim for her deceased parent. She delivered a lecture about her father’s music at the educational institution and led the South African Broadcasting Corporation Orchestra in that location, programming the bold final section of her concerto, titled: “In remembrance of my Father.” Even though a confident pianist herself, she avoided playing as the soloist in her concerto. Rather, she invariably directed as the leader; and so the apartheid orchestra performed under her direction.
She desired, in her own words, she “may foster a change”. But by 1954, the situation collapsed. After authorities became aware of her African heritage, she had to depart the nation. Her UK document failed to safeguard her, the British high commissioner advised her to leave or face arrest. She came home, deeply ashamed as the magnitude of her innocence became clear. “The lesson was a difficult one,” she expressed. Compounding her humiliation was the release in 1955 of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her forced leaving from that nation.
A Recurring Theme
As I sat with these legacies, I felt a recurring theme. The narrative of holding UK citizenship until you’re not – which recalls Black soldiers who defended the British in the second world war and survived only to be refused rightful benefits. Along with the Windrush era,