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This talented musician constantly bore the burden of her father’s legacy. As the offspring of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, among the prominent English composers of the 1900s, her identity was cloaked in the deep shadows of history.

An Inaugural Recording

In recent months, I sat with these legacies as I got ready to record the world premiere recording of Avril’s piano concerto from 1936. Boasting impassioned harmonies, expressive melodies, and confident beats, this piece will grant audiences fascinating insight into how she – a composer during war originating from the early 1900s – imagined her world as a female composer of color.

Legacy and Reality

However about legacies. It can take a while to acclimate, to see shapes as they really are, to separate fact from misrepresentation, and I was reluctant to confront her history for some time.

I deeply hoped Avril to be a reflection of her father. In some ways, she was. The rustic British sounds of her father’s impact can be detected in many of her works, including From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). Yet it suffices to look at the headings of her parent’s works to see how he heard himself as not just a champion of British Romantic style and also a advocate of the Black diaspora.

It was here that Samuel and Avril appeared to part ways.

The United States judged Samuel by the brilliance of his compositions as opposed to the his racial background.

Samuel’s African Roots

While he was studying at the Royal College of Music, her father – the child of a Sierra Leonean father and a Caucasian parent – turned toward his background. At the time the Black American writer Paul Laurence Dunbar came to London in that era, the 21-year-old composer was keen to meet him. He composed the poet’s African Romances as a composition and the following year used the poet’s words for a stage piece, Dream Lovers. Then came the choral piece that put Samuel on the map: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Based on Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, this composition was an international hit, notably for the Black community who felt indirect honor as the majority judged Samuel by the brilliance of his art rather than the colour of his skin.

Advocacy and Beliefs

Recognition did not reduce Samuel’s politics. During that period, he attended the First Pan African Conference in England where he encountered the African American intellectual the renowned Du Bois and saw a variety of discussions, covering the oppression of Black South Africans. He remained an advocate until the end. He sustained relationships with pioneers of civil rights such as the scholar and the educator Washington, gave addresses on ending discrimination, and even talked about issues of racism with President Theodore Roosevelt on a trip to the White House in the early 1900s. In terms of his art, the scholar reflected, “he established his reputation so notably as a musician that it cannot soon be forgotten.” He died in 1912, at 37 years old. However, how would the composer have made of his offspring’s move to work in this country in the that decade?

Issues and Stance

“Offspring of Renowned Musician expresses approval to apartheid system,” appeared as a heading in the community journal Jet magazine. The system “appeared to me the right policy”, she informed Jet. When asked to explain, she qualified her remarks: she didn’t agree with the system “in principle” and it “ought to be permitted to run its course, guided by well-meaning people of every background”. If Avril had been more attuned to her parent’s beliefs, or born in segregated America, she may have reconsidered about this system. However, existence had sheltered her.

Background and Inexperience

“I have a English document,” she stated, “and the authorities did not inquire me about my race.” So, with her “porcelain-white” skin (according to the magazine), she moved within European circles, supported by their praise for her late father. She delivered a lecture about her father’s music at the educational institution and led the broadcasting ensemble in the city, programming the bold final section of her Piano Concerto, titled: “Dedicated to my Father.” Even though a skilled pianist personally, she avoided playing as the soloist in her concerto. Instead, she always led as the leader; and so the segregated ensemble followed her lead.

She desired, according to her, she “could introduce a transformation”. Yet in the mid-1950s, things fell apart. Once officials learned of her African heritage, she could no longer stay the land. Her UK document offered no defense, the British high commissioner recommended her departure or be jailed. She came home, deeply ashamed as the extent of her innocence became clear. “The lesson was a painful one,” she lamented. Compounding her disgrace was the printing that year of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her unceremonious exit from the country.

A Recurring Theme

While I reflected with these shadows, I felt a recurring theme. The story of holding UK citizenship until it’s revoked – one that calls to mind troops of color who defended the UK throughout the second world war and survived only to be refused rightful benefits. Including those from Windrush,