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Avril Coleridge-Taylor always experienced the weight of her family heritage. As the offspring of the celebrated composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, one of the best-known UK musicians of the turn of the 20th century, the composer’s reputation was cloaked in the lingering obscurity of history.

The First Recording

Not long ago, I sat with these shadows as I prepared to make the first-ever recording of the composer’s 1936 piano concerto. Featuring impassioned harmonies, soulful lyricism, and confident beats, her composition will provide audiences fascinating insight into how the composer – a composer during war originating from the early 1900s – imagined her existence as a woman of colour.

Legacy and Reality

But here’s the thing about the past. One needs patience to acclimate, to recognize outlines as they truly exist, to tell reality from distortion, and I had been afraid to address Avril’s past for a while.

I had so wanted Avril to be following in her father’s footsteps. To some extent, she was. The idyllic English tones of parental inspiration can be heard in several pieces, such as From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). However, one need only examine the titles of her father’s compositions to realize how he viewed himself as both a flag bearer of British Romantic style and also a advocate of the Black diaspora.

It was here that parent and child appeared to part ways.

White America evaluated Samuel by the mastery of his compositions instead of the colour of his skin.

Family Background

While he was studying at the prestigious music college, Samuel – the child of a parent from Sierra Leone and a British mother – turned toward his African roots. When the African American poet Paul Laurence Dunbar visited the UK in the late 19th century, the aspiring artist eagerly sought him out. He set Dunbar’s African Romances as a composition and the next year used the poet’s words for a musical work, Dream Lovers. This was followed by the choral work that established his reputation: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Inspired by the poet Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, this composition was an worldwide sensation, notably for Black Americans who felt vicarious pride as American society assessed his work by the brilliance of his music as opposed to the colour of his skin.

Activism and Politics

Recognition did not reduce his beliefs. In 1900, he was present at the initial Pan African gathering in the UK where he encountered the African American intellectual this influential figure and saw a series of speeches, including on the subjugation of Black South Africans. He was an activist to his final days. He kept connections with early civil rights leaders like Du Bois and the educator Washington, spoke publicly on equality for all, and even talked about racial problems with the US President while visiting to the presidential residence in that year. Regarding his compositions, the scholar reflected, “he made his mark so notably as a composer that it cannot soon be forgotten.” He passed away in the early 20th century, in his thirties. However, how would her father have thought of his child’s choice to be in South Africa in the 1950s?

Controversy and Apartheid

“Daughter of Famous Composer gives OK to apartheid system,” ran a headline in the African American magazine Jet magazine. Apartheid “appeared to me the right policy”, she informed Jet. Upon further questioning, she backtracked: she did not support with apartheid “as a concept” and it “could be left to resolve itself, overseen by benevolent residents of all races”. If Avril had been more aligned to her parent’s beliefs, or from Jim Crow America, she may have reconsidered about the policy. However, existence had sheltered her.

Identity and Naivety

“I hold a English document,” she stated, “and the officials never asked me about my background.” So, with her “light” appearance (as described), she floated alongside white society, supported by their acclaim for her renowned family member. She presented about her family’s work at the educational institution and directed the South African Broadcasting Corporation Orchestra in that location, featuring the inspiring part of her concerto, subtitled: “In memory of my Father.” Even though a confident pianist on her own, she never played as the lead performer in her concerto. Rather, she consistently conducted as the conductor; and so the segregated ensemble followed her lead.

The composer aspired, in her own words, she “might bring a shift”. However, by that year, the situation collapsed. When government agents learned of her Black ancestry, she had to depart the land. Her British passport didn’t protect her, the British high commissioner recommended her departure or risk imprisonment. She went back to the UK, deeply ashamed as the scale of her naivety was realized. “The realization was a painful one,” she lamented. Increasing her embarrassment was the release in 1955 of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her sudden departure from South Africa.

A Familiar Story

Upon contemplating with these memories, I felt a familiar story. The story of identifying as British until you’re not – that brings to mind Black soldiers who served for the British throughout the World War II and lived only to be not given their earned rewards. Along with the Windrush era,