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The composer Avril Coleridge-Taylor constantly felt the burden of her parent’s reputation. As the offspring of the celebrated composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, among the most famous English artists of the turn of the 20th century, her name was shrouded in the long shadows of the past.

The First Recording

Earlier this year, I contemplated these shadows as I got ready to make the first-ever recording of Avril’s concerto for piano composed in 1936. Boasting emotional harmonies, soulful lyricism, and confident beats, this piece will offer audiences deep understanding into how the composer – a composer during war born in 1903 – imagined her reality as a woman of colour.

Legacy and Reality

But here’s the thing about legacies. It can take a while to adjust, to recognize outlines as they really are, to separate fact from distortion, and I was reluctant to confront Avril’s past for a period.

I had so wanted Avril to be a reflection of her father. Partially, she was. The idyllic English tones of her father’s impact can be detected in numerous compositions, including From the Hills (1934) and Sussex Landscape (1940). However, one need only review the names of her father’s compositions to see how he identified as not just a champion of UK romantic tradition and also a voice of the African heritage.

This was where parent and child began to differ.

American society evaluated Samuel by the mastery of his art rather than the colour of his skin.

Parental Heritage

During his studies at the prestigious music college, Samuel – the offspring of a African father and a British mother – turned toward his African roots. At the time the Black American writer the renowned Dunbar visited the UK in the late 19th century, the aspiring artist eagerly sought him out. He set Dunbar’s African Romances as a composition and the following year incorporated his poetry for a musical work, Dream Lovers. This was followed by the choral piece that established his reputation: Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast.

Drawing from the poet Longfellow’s The Song of Hiawatha, Samuel’s Hiawatha was an global success, especially with African Americans who felt indirect honor as the majority evaluated the composer by the excellence of his art rather than the colour of his skin.

Advocacy and Beliefs

Recognition did not reduce Samuel’s politics. At the turn of the century, he was present at the pioneering African conference in England where he met the African American intellectual the renowned Du Bois and saw a series of speeches, covering the oppression of Black South Africans. He remained an advocate to his final days. He maintained ties with early civil rights leaders like Du Bois and Booker T Washington, spoke publicly on racial equality, and even engaged in dialogue on racial problems with the American leader on a trip to the US capital in that year. As for his music, Du Bois recalled, “he made his mark so high as a creative artist that it will long be remembered.” He succumbed in that year, aged 37. Yet how might her father have thought of his child’s choice to travel to South Africa in the mid-20th century?

Issues and Stance

“Child of Celebrated Artist gives OK to S African Bias,” declared a title in the community journal Jet magazine. This policy “appeared to me the appropriate course”, Avril told Jet. When pushed to clarify, she revised her statement: she was not in favor with the system “as a concept” and it “could be left to work itself out, directed by well-meaning South Africans of all races”. If Avril had been more in tune to her father’s politics, or from Jim Crow America, she may have reconsidered about this system. But life had shielded her.

Identity and Naivety

“I have a British passport,” she remarked, “and the officials did not inquire me about my ethnicity.” So, with her “light” skin (according to the magazine), she traveled within European circles, supported by their praise for her renowned family member. She presented about her parent’s compositions at the educational institution and led the South African Broadcasting Corporation Orchestra in the city, including the inspiring part of her Piano Concerto, titled: “In remembrance of my Father.” Even though a accomplished player personally, she avoided playing as the featured artist in her concerto. Rather, she invariably directed as the conductor; and so the orchestra of the era played under her baton.

The composer aspired, as she stated, she “may foster a change”. However, by that year, the situation collapsed. After authorities became aware of her Black ancestry, she was forced to leave the land. Her UK document failed to safeguard her, the diplomatic official recommended her departure or be jailed. She came home, embarrassed as the extent of her innocence became clear. “The realization was a difficult one,” she lamented. Compounding her disgrace was the 1955 publication of her ill-fated Jet interview, a year after her sudden departure from South Africa.

A Common Narrative

As I sat with these legacies, I perceived a familiar story. The narrative of being British until it’s challenged – that brings to mind troops of color who served for the English throughout the World War II and survived only to be refused rightful benefits. And the Windrush generation,