Out of Obscurity: Why Avril Coleridge-Taylor Merits to Be Recognized
Avril Coleridge-Taylor always felt the weight of her family legacy. As the daughter of the renowned Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, one of the most famous UK composers of the 1900s, Avril’s reputation was cloaked in the long shadows of history.
An Inaugural Recording
Earlier this year, I contemplated these memories as I prepared to record the first-ever recording of Avril’s concerto for piano composed in 1936. Boasting emotional harmonies, expressive melodies, and confident beats, this piece will offer new listeners valuable perspective into how the composer – a wartime composer originating from the early 1900s – conceived of her world as a female composer of color.
Shadows and Truth
Yet about the past. One needs patience to adjust, to see shapes as they truly exist, to tell reality from distortion, and I was reluctant to confront Avril’s past for a period.
I had so wanted her to be her father’s daughter. Partially, she was. The rustic British sounds of parental inspiration can be heard in many of her works, such as From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). Yet it suffices to examine the names of her father’s compositions to see how he viewed himself as not only a champion of UK romantic tradition and also a representative of the Black diaspora.
It was here that father and daughter seemed to diverge.
The United States assessed the composer by the mastery of his compositions rather than the his racial background.
Parental Heritage
While he was studying at the prestigious music college, her father – the child of a African father and a Caucasian parent – began embracing his African roots. Once the poet of color the renowned Dunbar arrived in England in the late 19th century, the aspiring artist was keen to meet him. He adapted the poet’s African Romances as a composition and the following year adapted his verses for an opera, Dream Lovers. This was followed by the choral work that established his reputation: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.
Inspired by this American writer’s The Song of Hiawatha, the piece was an global success, particularly among African Americans who felt vicarious pride as the majority assessed his work by the brilliance of his music instead of the colour of his skin.
Advocacy and Beliefs
Recognition did not reduce his beliefs. During that period, he participated in the initial Pan African gathering in the UK where he made the acquaintance of the Black American thinker WEB Du Bois and saw a series of speeches, such as the oppression of African people in South Africa. He was an activist to his final days. He kept connections with early civil rights leaders such as this intellectual and the educator Washington, delivered his own speeches on ending discrimination, and even engaged in dialogue on matters of race with the US President while visiting to the presidential residence in 1904. In terms of his art, Du Bois recalled, “he made his mark so high as a musician that it will long be remembered.” He died in that year, aged 37. Yet how might Samuel have thought of his offspring’s move to be in South Africa in the mid-20th century?
Conflict and Policy
“Child of Celebrated Artist gives OK to S African Bias,” appeared as a heading in the African American magazine Jet magazine. The system “seems to me the right policy”, Avril told Jet. When pushed to clarify, she revised her statement: she didn’t agree with apartheid “fundamentally” and it “ought to be permitted to run its course, overseen by well-meaning people of every background”. Had Avril been more in tune to her family’s principles, or from the US under segregation, she might have thought twice about the policy. However, existence had protected her.
Heritage and Innocence
“I have a British passport,” she said, “and the authorities failed to question me about my background.” So, with her “fair” skin (as described), she traveled alongside white society, buoyed up by their acclaim for her renowned family member. She presented about her father’s music at the University of Cape Town and conducted the national orchestra in the city, featuring the inspiring part of her Piano Concerto, subtitled: “In remembrance of my Father.” Even though a skilled pianist herself, she avoided playing as the lead performer in her concerto. On the contrary, she always led as the conductor; and so the segregated ensemble performed under her direction.
Avril hoped, in her own words, she “might bring a transformation”. However, by that year, things fell apart. After authorities became aware of her Black ancestry, she was forced to leave the country. Her British passport offered no defense, the British high commissioner advised her to leave or risk imprisonment. She went back to the UK, deeply ashamed as the magnitude of her naivety became clear. “This experience was a hard one,” she lamented. Compounding her embarrassment was the printing that year of her controversial discussion, a year after her sudden departure from that nation.
A Familiar Story
Upon contemplating with these legacies, I felt a recurring theme. The account of holding UK citizenship until it’s revoked – which recalls Black soldiers who served for the UK during the global conflict and lived only to be refused rightful benefits. And the Windrush generation,