Out of Darkness: The Reasons Avril Coleridge-Taylor Warrants to Be Listened To
This talented musician continually bore the pressure of her family legacy. Being the child of Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, among the most famous British composers of the turn of the 20th century, her reputation was shrouded in the lingering obscurity of bygone eras.
An Inaugural Recording
In recent months, I contemplated these memories as I made arrangements to make the world premiere recording of the composer’s piano concerto from 1936. Featuring intense musical themes, heartfelt tunes, and confident beats, Avril’s work will grant music lovers deep understanding into how this artist – a composer during war born in 1903 – conceived of her reality as a female composer of color.
Past and Present
Yet about legacies. One needs patience to acclimate, to recognize outlines as they truly exist, to separate fact from misinterpretation, and I was reluctant to confront the composer’s background for a while.
I had so wanted Avril to be a reflection of her father. To some extent, she was. The rustic British sounds of Samuel’s influence can be heard in numerous compositions, including From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). Yet it suffices to examine the headings of her parent’s works to realize how he heard himself as not only a flag bearer of British Romantic style but a voice of the African heritage.
It was here that father and daughter began to differ.
The United States assessed the composer by the excellence of his art rather than the his ethnicity.
Family Background
As a student at the Royal College of Music, her father – the offspring of a Sierra Leonean father and a Caucasian parent – began embracing his background. Once the Black American writer Paul Laurence Dunbar visited the UK in 1897, the young musician eagerly sought him out. He composed Dunbar’s African Romances as a composition and the next year used the poet’s words for an opera, Dream Lovers. Subsequently arrived the choral composition that made him famous: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.
Drawing from the poet Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, the piece was an worldwide sensation, especially with African Americans who felt indirect honor as the majority judged Samuel by the brilliance of his art instead of the his race.
Principles and Actions
Recognition failed to diminish Samuel’s politics. At the turn of the century, he was present at the initial Pan African gathering in England where he met the African American intellectual WEB Du Bois and observed a series of speeches, such as the subjugation of African people in South Africa. He was a campaigner until the end. He sustained relationships with trailblazers for equality including this intellectual and the educator Washington, delivered his own speeches on equality for all, and even talked about racial problems with the US President during an invitation to the US capital in that year. In terms of his art, reminisced Du Bois, “he established his reputation so high as a musician that it will long be remembered.” He died in the early 20th century, aged 37. But what would the composer have made of his child’s choice to be in the African nation in the mid-20th century?
Controversy and Apartheid
“Child of Celebrated Artist gives OK to apartheid system,” ran a headline in the Black American publication Jet magazine. The system “appeared to me the right policy”, Avril told Jet. When asked to explain, she qualified her remarks: she was not in favor with the system “as a concept” and it “ought to be permitted to work itself out, overseen by good-intentioned people of all races”. Were the composer more in tune to her parent’s beliefs, or raised in segregated America, she could have hesitated about the policy. However, existence had protected her.
Background and Inexperience
“I have a British passport,” she stated, “and the officials failed to question me about my ethnicity.” Therefore, with her “light” complexion (as described), she traveled alongside white society, buoyed up by their praise for her deceased parent. She gave a talk about her father’s music at the Cape Town university and directed the national orchestra in the city, featuring the heroic third movement of her concerto, titled: “In memory of my Father.” While a skilled pianist personally, she avoided playing as the lead performer in her piece. Instead, she invariably directed as the maestro; and so the orchestra of the era performed under her direction.
The composer aspired, in her own words, she “might bring a change”. Yet in the mid-1950s, the situation collapsed. After authorities discovered her African heritage, she had to depart the country. Her UK document didn’t protect her, the UK representative advised her to leave or face arrest. She went back to the UK, deeply ashamed as the extent of her inexperience became clear. “The realization was a difficult one,” she stated. Increasing her embarrassment was the 1955 publication of her unfortunate magazine feature, a year after her sudden departure from that nation.
A Common Narrative
As I sat with these legacies, I felt a known narrative. The story of being British until it’s revoked – one that calls to mind Black soldiers who served for the British in the World War II and lived only to be denied their due compensation. Along with the Windrush era,