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Avril Coleridge-Taylor constantly felt the weight of her family reputation. Being the child of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, among the most famous UK artists of the early 20th century, her reputation was shrouded in the deep shadows of bygone eras.

The First Recording

Not long ago, I reflected on these memories as I made arrangements to make the world premiere recording of her 1936 piano concerto. Boasting impassioned harmonies, soulful lyricism, and valiant rhythms, her composition will grant new listeners fascinating insight into how she – a composer during war who entered the world in 1903 – conceived of her world as a woman of colour.

Past and Present

But here’s the thing about the past. It requires time to adjust, to recognize outlines as they actually appear, to distinguish truth from distortion, and I felt hesitant to face Avril’s past for a period.

I had so wanted her to be a reflection of her father. To some extent, this was true. The pastoral English palettes of Samuel’s influence can be detected in numerous compositions, including From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). Yet it suffices to look at the titles of her father’s compositions to see how he identified as both a champion of English Romanticism as well as a advocate of the African heritage.

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

American society evaluated Samuel by the mastery of his compositions instead of the colour of his skin.

Parental Heritage

While he was studying at the Royal College of Music, the composer – the son of a African father and a British mother – started to lean into his background. At the time the African American poet the renowned Dunbar arrived in England in the late 19th century, the aspiring artist was keen to meet him. He composed this literary work into music and the next year incorporated his poetry for a musical work, Dream Lovers. Then came the choral work that put Samuel on the map: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Drawing from this American writer’s The Song of Hiawatha, the piece was an worldwide sensation, particularly among the Black community who felt indirect honor as American society judged Samuel by the excellence of his compositions as opposed to the colour of his skin.

Advocacy and Beliefs

Recognition did not reduce his activism. During that period, he participated in the pioneering African conference in England where he encountered the prominent scholar this influential figure and saw a range of talks, including on the subjugation of Black South Africans. He was a campaigner until the end. He sustained relationships with trailblazers for equality such as the scholar and the educator Washington, delivered his own speeches on equality for all, and even engaged in dialogue on matters of race with the American leader on a trip to the White House in the early 1900s. In terms of his art, the scholar reflected, “he wrote his name so notably as a composer that it cannot soon be forgotten.” He died in that year, at 37 years old. But what would the composer have thought of his child’s choice to travel to the African nation in the that decade?

Conflict and Policy

“Offspring of Renowned Musician shows support to South African policy,” declared a title in the community journal Jet magazine. This policy “appeared to me the correct approach”, the composer stated Jet. When pushed to clarify, she revised her statement: she was not in favor with the system “in principle” and it “could be left to resolve itself, guided by benevolent people of diverse ethnicities”. Were the composer more aligned to her family’s principles, or born in the US under segregation, she may have reconsidered about the policy. But life had protected her.

Heritage and Innocence

“I hold a UK passport,” she said, “and the officials did not inquire me about my race.” So, with her “light” appearance (according to the magazine), she floated among the Europeans, supported by their acclaim for her deceased parent. She presented about her parent’s compositions at the educational institution and conducted the broadcasting ensemble in the city, featuring the heroic third movement of her Piano Concerto, subtitled: “In remembrance of my Father.” Even though a confident pianist on her own, she did not perform as the soloist in her piece. On the contrary, she invariably directed as the maestro; and so the apartheid orchestra played under her baton.

She desired, in her own words, she “may foster a shift”. However, by that year, the situation collapsed. When government agents learned of her African heritage, she was forced to leave the land. Her citizenship didn’t protect her, the British high commissioner advised her to leave or be jailed. She came home, feeling great shame as the scale of her innocence became clear. “The lesson was a hard one,” she stated. Compounding her embarrassment was the 1955 publication of her controversial discussion, a year after her forced leaving from the country.

A Common Narrative

While I reflected with these memories, I felt a recurring theme. The narrative of being British until it’s challenged – that brings to mind troops of color who defended the British during the second world war and survived only to be not given their earned rewards. And the Windrush generation,