Out of Darkness: Why Avril Coleridge-Taylor Deserves to Be Recognized
Avril Coleridge-Taylor always felt the weight of her parent’s reputation. As the offspring of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, one of the most famous British artists of the turn of the 20th century, Avril’s name was enveloped in the long shadows of the past.
The First Recording
In recent months, I contemplated these shadows as I prepared to record the first-ever recording of Avril’s concerto for piano composed in 1936. Featuring intense musical themes, heartfelt tunes, and bold rhythms, this piece will grant music lovers valuable perspective into how she – an artist in conflict born in 1903 – envisioned her existence as a woman of colour.
Shadows and Truth
However about the past. It requires time to acclimate, to see shapes as they really are, to separate fact from misinterpretation, and I had been afraid to address the composer’s background for a period.
I had so wanted the composer to be a reflection of her father. To some extent, she was. The pastoral English palettes of Samuel’s influence can be heard in many of her works, for example 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 identified as not only a standard-bearer of British Romantic style but a representative of the African diaspora.
At this point Samuel and Avril began to differ.
American society judged Samuel by the brilliance of his art rather than the his racial background.
Samuel’s African Roots
While he was studying at the prestigious music college, Samuel – the offspring of a African father and a British mother – started to lean into his African roots. When the African American poet this literary figure visited the UK in 1897, the 21-year-old composer was keen to meet him. He composed the poet’s African Romances as a composition and the next year incorporated his poetry for a musical work, Dream Lovers. Subsequently arrived the choral composition that established his reputation: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.
Based on this American writer’s The Song of Hiawatha, Samuel’s Hiawatha was an international hit, notably for African Americans who felt shared pride as the majority judged Samuel by the quality of his art instead of the colour of his skin.
Advocacy and Beliefs
Success did not temper Samuel’s politics. At the turn of the century, he participated in the First Pan African Conference in England where he made the acquaintance of the prominent scholar the renowned Du Bois and saw a range of talks, covering the oppression of the Black community there. He was a campaigner throughout his life. He maintained ties with pioneers of civil rights including Du Bois and Booker T Washington, gave addresses on equality for all, and even engaged in dialogue on matters of race with President Theodore Roosevelt during an invitation to the presidential residence in the early 1900s. As for his music, Du Bois recalled, “he made his mark so prominently as a creative artist that it cannot soon be forgotten.” He passed away in that year, in his thirties. However, how would her father have thought of his child’s choice to be in the African nation in the 1950s?
Conflict and Policy
“Daughter of Famous Composer gives OK to apartheid system,” appeared as a heading in the Black American publication Jet magazine. This policy “struck me as the appropriate course”, Avril told Jet. When pushed to clarify, she revised her statement: she was not in favor with this policy “as a concept” and it “should be allowed to run its course, guided by well-meaning residents of all races”. If Avril had been more aligned to her parent’s beliefs, or raised in Jim Crow America, she may have reconsidered about the policy. Yet her life had sheltered her.
Identity and Naivety
“I have a UK passport,” she stated, “and the authorities failed to question me about my race.” So, with her “fair” complexion (as Jet put it), she floated within European circles, lifted by their acclaim for her renowned family member. She gave a talk about her family’s work at the Cape Town university and directed the national orchestra in that location, including the inspiring part of her concerto, subtitled: “In remembrance of my Father.” Although a confident pianist on her own, she did not perform as the soloist in her work. Instead, she consistently conducted as the leader; and so the segregated ensemble followed her lead.
Avril hoped, according to her, she “may foster a change”. But by 1954, things fell apart. After authorities learned of her African heritage, she had to depart the country. Her UK document failed to safeguard her, the British high commissioner recommended her departure or face arrest. She came home, feeling great shame as the extent of her inexperience became clear. “This experience was a hard one,” she expressed. Adding to her disgrace was the 1955 publication of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her sudden departure from the country.
A Common Narrative
As I sat with these shadows, I perceived a familiar story. The story of identifying as British until you’re not – one that calls to mind Black soldiers who fought on behalf of the English in the global conflict and survived only to be denied their due compensation. Including those from Windrush,