Out of Darkness: The Reasons Avril Coleridge-Taylor Deserves to Be Heard
This talented musician always felt the pressure of her parent’s legacy. Being the child of the renowned Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, one of the best-known British musicians of the turn of the 20th century, her identity was shrouded in the deep shadows of bygone eras.
A World Premiere
Earlier this year, I sat with these shadows as I got ready to record the world premiere recording of Avril’s 1936 piano concerto. Featuring emotional harmonies, expressive melodies, and confident beats, her composition will provide new listeners fascinating insight into how this artist – an artist in conflict born in 1903 – envisioned her reality as a female composer of color.
Shadows and Truth
However about shadows. It can take a while to adjust, to perceive forms as they truly exist, to separate fact from misrepresentation, and I had been afraid to face the composer’s background for some time.
I had so wanted her to be following in her father’s footsteps. Partially, she was. The rustic British sounds of Samuel’s influence can be detected in numerous compositions, for example From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). Yet it suffices to look at the headings of her father’s compositions to realize how he viewed himself as not only a champion of British Romantic style but a advocate of the African heritage.
It was here that Samuel and Avril seemed to diverge.
The United States evaluated Samuel by the brilliance of his music instead of the colour of his skin.
Parental Heritage
During his studies at the prestigious music college, Samuel – the child of a parent from Sierra Leone and a Caucasian parent – started to lean into his African roots. At the time the African American poet this literary figure came to London in the late 19th century, the aspiring artist was keen to meet him. He adapted this literary work to music and the following year adapted his verses for a musical work, Dream Lovers. This was followed by the choral work that put Samuel on the map: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.
Inspired by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, Samuel’s Hiawatha was an global success, especially with Black Americans who felt indirect honor as white America judged Samuel by the brilliance of his art instead of the his race.
Advocacy and Beliefs
Recognition did not reduce Samuel’s politics. In 1900, he participated in the First Pan African Conference in England where he encountered the African American intellectual this influential figure and observed a series of speeches, including on the oppression of the Black community there. He remained an advocate to his final days. He maintained ties with early civil rights leaders such as Du Bois and the educator Washington, gave addresses on equality for all, and even talked about matters of race with the US President on a trip to the White House in the early 1900s. In terms of his art, the scholar reflected, “he established his reputation so prominently as a composer that it will endure.” He died in the early 20th century, in his thirties. However, how would Samuel have reacted to his daughter’s decision to be in this country in the that decade?
Issues and Stance
“Child of Celebrated Artist expresses approval to South African policy,” ran a headline in the African American magazine Jet magazine. This policy “struck me as the appropriate course”, she informed Jet. When pushed to clarify, she qualified her remarks: she did not support with this policy “in principle” and it “could be left to run its course, guided by well-meaning South Africans of every background”. If Avril had been more aligned to her father’s politics, or from the US under segregation, she could have hesitated about this system. Yet her life had shielded her.
Background and Inexperience
“I hold a English document,” she remarked, “and the authorities did not inquire me about my background.” So, with her “light” complexion (as Jet put it), she traveled among the Europeans, buoyed up by their praise for her deceased parent. She gave a talk about her father’s music at the University of Cape Town and conducted the national orchestra in that location, including the inspiring part of her Piano Concerto, named: “In remembrance of my Father.” Although a skilled pianist personally, she avoided playing as the lead performer in her concerto. On the contrary, she always led as the maestro; and so the segregated ensemble performed under her direction.
She desired, as she stated, she “might bring a change”. But by 1954, the situation collapsed. Once officials discovered her mixed background, she was forced to leave the nation. Her UK document didn’t protect her, the diplomatic official advised her to leave or risk imprisonment. She came home, deeply ashamed as the scale of her inexperience dawned. “This experience was a hard one,” she expressed. Adding to her humiliation was the release in 1955 of her controversial discussion, a year after her unceremonious exit from that nation.
A Recurring Theme
While I reflected with these memories, I sensed a familiar story. The account of holding UK citizenship until it’s revoked – one that calls to mind African-descended soldiers who fought on behalf of the UK during the second world war and survived only to be refused rightful benefits. And the Windrush generation,