I pity the poor immigrant

Last night I went to Sheffield to see a choir from Cuba. When I started this Historic Gig Guide blog it was intended to be a little bit of nostalgia, perhaps making links between the past and the present, but mostly about memories. But I find that my active concert going sparks all sorts of connections and ideas that I want to share in the here and now. The choir were the sublime and stunning Camerata Vocal Musica Aurea. They are in Europe for the first time. The Sheffield Socialist Choir and Voces de Cuba have helped make it possible for them to come to Britain, financially and practically. They have been performing and giving workshops. I think they are here for another week, and that are performing in Sheffield Cathedral on Saturday. They look and sound beautiful.Go if you can. The Sheffield Socialist choir opened the concert. Links had been made when they travelled to Cuba for a couple of international choral festivals in the last eight or so years. One of their musical directors has recently written a piece of choral music about the experiences of asylum seekers, and this was given its world premiere last night. The testimony of those who had found their way to South Yorkshire was incorporated into the lyrics. The performance was dramatic and evocative. A very powerful piece of music. As I listened I was suddenly aware of Britain as an island, a green and pleasant land, a beacon to immigrants throughout its history. Those who broke their sea journeys and stayed here, those who came seeking land, a living, a place to farm and settle,and then those who bought into the image of a country where a sense of fair play and democracy was paramount. A peaceful and pleasant place with polite people and orderly queues. A little jewel of a country. It then seemed terrible that the immigrant is so often made the scapegoat for society's problems, with calls for caps on numbers, and bureaucratic treatment of those who seek a calm and peaceful life, free from torture, war and political persecution. It occurred to me that we have all been immigrants at some point in our family history - that's how an island acquires a population, and that it should be a source of great pride and happiness that people look to the UK as a safe haven. As I said - it was a very powerful piece of music. This morning the alarm went off at the usual time, and I switched on the radio to listen to the Today programme.It was an item about the Britain's DNA project, and I heard Alistair Moffat say ' we are all immigrants here'. Links have been found to the Queen of Sheba, Berber and Tuareg peoples, as well as the more usual links with Europe and Ireland. He explained that this is deep ancestry - 'it's not about your Aunty Jeannie'.I suppose it's tribal - he gave an example - 97% of men called Cohen share common DNA. Now my daughter has been taking advantage of the ancestry website's free trial to track our family's more recent past - lots of toing and froing from Ireland, as well as Germany, and deepest Lancashire. In a week where I have been particularly alert to the power of music to cross cultural boundaries, I'm beginning to wonder if we are all more bound together by blood and beat than we appreciate.