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Avril Coleridge-Taylor continually experienced the burden of her family heritage. As the daughter of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, one of the prominent English artists of the early 20th century, Avril’s identity was enveloped in the long shadows of bygone eras.

The First Recording

Earlier this year, I reflected on these shadows as I made arrangements to record the inaugural album of the composer’s piano concerto from 1936. With its intense musical themes, heartfelt tunes, and valiant rhythms, this piece will provide audiences valuable perspective into how this artist – a wartime composer who entered the world in 1903 – imagined her reality as a woman of colour.

Past and Present

Yet about shadows. It can take a while to adjust, to see shapes as they actually appear, to separate fact from misrepresentation, and I felt hesitant to confront the composer’s background for some time.

I earnestly desired her to be her father’s daughter. In some ways, she was. The pastoral English palettes 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 review the names of her parent’s works to see how he heard himself as not only a flag bearer of UK romantic tradition as well as a representative of the African diaspora.

This was where father and daughter began to differ.

American society assessed the composer by the mastery of his compositions as opposed to the his racial background.

Samuel’s African Roots

During his studies at the renowned institution, the composer – the child of a African father and a Caucasian parent – started to lean into his heritage. Once the poet of color Paul Laurence Dunbar arrived in England in 1897, the 21-year-old composer eagerly sought him out. He adapted this literary work into music and the next year adapted his verses for a musical work, Dream Lovers. Then came the choral work that made him famous: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Based on the poet Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, the piece was an worldwide sensation, especially with the Black community who felt shared pride as the majority judged Samuel by the excellence of his compositions rather than the colour of his skin.

Principles and Actions

Fame did not temper his activism. In 1900, he attended the First Pan African Conference in the UK where he made the acquaintance of the African American intellectual the renowned Du Bois and observed a variety of discussions, including on the mistreatment of the Black community there. He remained an advocate throughout his life. He maintained ties with early civil rights leaders like Du Bois and this leader, delivered his own speeches on racial equality, and even engaged in dialogue on issues of racism with the US President while visiting to the White House in the early 1900s. Regarding his compositions, reminisced Du Bois, “he wrote his name so notably as a composer that it cannot soon be forgotten.” He succumbed in that year, aged 37. But what would Samuel have thought of his daughter’s decision to work in South Africa in the mid-20th century?

Controversy and Apartheid

“Daughter of Famous Composer expresses approval to South African policy,” declared a title in the African American magazine Jet magazine. This policy “struck me as the correct approach”, the composer stated Jet. When pushed to clarify, she backtracked: she didn’t agree with apartheid “as a concept” and it “should be allowed to run its course, guided by good-intentioned people of every background”. If Avril had been more in tune to her father’s politics, or from Jim Crow America, she may have reconsidered about the policy. But life had protected her.

Identity and Naivety

“I possess a British passport,” she stated, “and the government agents failed to question me about my race.” Thus, with her “porcelain-white” skin (as Jet put it), she floated within European circles, lifted by their acclaim for her late father. She presented about her parent’s compositions at the University of Cape Town and led the South African Broadcasting Corporation Orchestra in Johannesburg, programming the bold final section of her Piano Concerto, named: “In remembrance of my Father.” Even though a skilled pianist personally, she never played as the lead performer in her piece. Instead, she always led as the leader; and so the orchestra of the era followed her lead.

She desired, in her own words, she “may foster a change”. However, by that year, circumstances deteriorated. When government agents learned of her mixed background, she could no longer stay the land. Her UK document didn’t protect her, the British high commissioner urged her to go or be jailed. She returned to England, feeling great shame as the extent of her inexperience dawned. “This experience was a difficult one,” she expressed. Increasing her humiliation was the printing that year of her controversial discussion, a year after her forced leaving from South Africa.

A Recurring Theme

As I sat with these shadows, I perceived a familiar story. The account of identifying as British until you’re not – which recalls troops of color who fought on behalf of the UK in the second world war and lived only to be not given their earned rewards. Along with the Windrush era,