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This talented musician always felt the burden of her family heritage. As the offspring of the renowned Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, a leading the prominent English composers of the turn of the 20th century, her identity was enveloped in the lingering obscurity of bygone eras.

An Inaugural Recording

Not long ago, I sat with these shadows as I prepared to record the first-ever recording of her piano concerto from 1936. Boasting impassioned harmonies, expressive melodies, and valiant rhythms, her composition will provide audiences deep understanding into how she – a wartime composer born in 1903 – conceived of her reality as a female composer of color.

Past and Present

But here’s the thing about shadows. It requires time to adjust, to recognize outlines as they actually appear, to separate fact from misinterpretation, and I had been afraid to face the composer’s background for some time.

I deeply hoped the composer to be a reflection of her father. In some ways, this was true. The idyllic English tones of her father’s impact can be heard in numerous compositions, for example From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). But you only have to review the names of her family’s music to understand how he viewed himself as not only a flag bearer of UK romantic tradition as well as a voice of the African diaspora.

This was where parent and child began to differ.

American society judged Samuel by the brilliance of his art instead of the his racial background.

Family Background

As a student at the renowned institution, her father – the son of a African father and a Caucasian parent – started to lean into his background. When the poet of color Paul Laurence Dunbar arrived in England in that era, the young musician eagerly sought him out. He composed this literary work as a composition and the following year adapted his verses for an opera, Dream Lovers. Then came the choral piece that established his reputation: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Drawing from the poet Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, the piece was an international hit, especially with the Black community who felt vicarious pride as white America assessed his work by the quality of his music instead of the his background.

Activism and Politics

Success failed to diminish his beliefs. In 1900, he was present at the initial Pan African gathering in the UK where he encountered the Black American thinker WEB Du Bois and witnessed a variety of discussions, including on the mistreatment of the Black community there. He remained an advocate throughout his life. He sustained relationships with trailblazers for equality including this intellectual and this leader, spoke publicly on equality for all, and even engaged in dialogue on issues of racism with the American leader during an invitation to the White House in the early 1900s. Regarding his compositions, the scholar reflected, “he established his reputation so notably as a creative artist that it will long be remembered.” He died in that year, at 37 years old. Yet how might Samuel have thought of his child’s choice to work in this country in the that decade?

Controversy and Apartheid

“Daughter of Famous Composer expresses approval to S African Bias,” declared a title in the Black American publication Jet magazine. Apartheid “struck me as the appropriate course”, she informed Jet. When asked to explain, she revised her statement: she didn’t agree with this policy “as a concept” and it “could be left to resolve itself, guided by good-intentioned residents of all races”. Were the composer more aligned to her parent’s beliefs, or born in the US under segregation, she could have hesitated about this system. However, existence had shielded her.

Identity and Naivety

“I hold a English document,” she remarked, “and the officials never asked me about my ethnicity.” Therefore, with her “fair” skin (according to the magazine), she floated among the Europeans, lifted by their praise for her renowned family member. She delivered a lecture about her family’s work at the University of Cape Town and directed the broadcasting ensemble in the city, featuring the bold final section of her Piano Concerto, subtitled: “In memory of my Father.” Even though a skilled pianist herself, she did not perform as the soloist in her piece. On the contrary, she always led as the maestro; and so the apartheid orchestra played under her baton.

Avril hoped, as she stated, she “could introduce a shift”. But by 1954, things fell apart. After authorities learned of her African heritage, she was forced to leave the country. Her British passport failed to safeguard her, the diplomatic official recommended her departure or be jailed. She went back to the UK, embarrassed as the magnitude of her innocence dawned. “This experience was a painful one,” she stated. Increasing her disgrace was the printing that year of her ill-fated Jet interview, a year after her forced leaving from South Africa.

A Familiar Story

Upon contemplating with these legacies, I perceived a recurring theme. The story of holding UK citizenship until you’re not – that brings to mind troops of color who defended the British throughout the global conflict and survived only to be denied their due compensation. Including those from Windrush,