Dionne Bromfield had an appointment with one of her favourite artists, Beyoncé
Knowles. But, well, she overslept and “forgot”. It should here be noted that
Dionne was due to see Beyoncé in concert.
“Just put it this way: the show started at nine and I was like ... hoooach.”
South Londoner Dionne makes a familiar teenage noise: a back-of-throat
grumble that conveys both profound weariness and “why bother?” agitation
without the aggro of, you know, speaking. An evening engagement? Tricky, if
you’re still in bed recovering from the night before. Dionne is the
goddaughter of Amy Winehouse, so clearly the apple has not fallen far from
the tree.
But that’s not fair. Dionne had been up all night filming a video for her
debut single, Mama Said, the first release on Winehouse’s new label,
Lioness Records. And it might also be spurious to compare the lifestyle of a
13-year-old with that of a 26-year-old singer famous for Rehab and
winning five Grammy Awards, and infamous for her chaotic love life and drug
appetites. Dionne might make a decent stab at “they tried to make me go to
maths class, I said no, no, no”, but there the similarities end.
It’s 2.30pm in Shepherds Bush, West London, and in the small auditorium at
Phoenix High School, the Year 11 media students, Year 10 expressive arts
students and Year 8 and 9 music and drama groups are being entertained by
Bromfield. She is younger than most of the 160 pupils. It’s 12 days since
she performed on Strictly Come Dancing, backed by Winehouse, singing Mama
Said; ten days since she released her debut album, Introducing Dionne
Bromfield, which comprises 12 covers of vintage soul and pop; and it’s
two days since Mitch Winehouse, the father of Dionne’s mentor, was in the
Houses of Parliament, telling a Home Affairs committee that his daughter had
been clean of drugs for a year.
“Yeah,” affirms Dionne, who has yet to pick her GCSEs, “Amy’s back on form.”
The day we meet the teenager is visiting three London schools; tomorrow, three
more, in Birmingham and Northampton. At each she is singing three songs and
hosting short Q+A sessions with the pupils.
Today’s first two appearances went well. She was jostled for autographs and
chatted up by a couple of boys. “I was surprised,” she admits. “I thought,
‘Oh great, kids, that’s your worst enemy, they’re the ones that will judge
you the most.’ But when I walked in they were like — ” she makes an excited
panting noise. “That made it easier, so it went really well.”
What, I ask before her 30-minute performance, are the kids getting from her
visit? “The real deal, basically. The real me,” she replies. “I’m not miming
or anything, and they get to see I am a normal girl. I do have to do
schoolwork. And at the end of the day it’s work,” she says of her engagement
here today. “It’s just work.”
I put the same question to Marlene Spencer, the Phoenix’s assistant head and
media studies teacher.
“One of the things we’re trying to do is develop elite performers in all
aspects of their education,” she says. “This is a fantastic opportunity for
them to see someone their age who’s actually in the industry.”
Ms Spencer’s media students will write reviews and take photos of the concert
for the school magazine, and apply any insights gleaned in the Q+A session
to what they have picked up about Bromfield from the papers. This, it
transpires, is a story about Dionne — who crams two days of home-schooling
into her busy weekly promotional schedule — being bullied at her last
school. “Children tend to bully when they’re jealous,” Ms Spencer explains,
“but she would have had a fantastic friendship group here.”
Except, says Dionne, the tabloid reports that she was bullied are untrue. So
are those about her drinking. “Come on, really?” she scoffs. “Do you think
I’m gonna be drinking at 13?” They’re lies, she insists. “I put it over my
head. That was yesterday’s news. Tomorrow’s gonna be tomorrow’s news.”
Barely one month into her life in the public eye, Dionne Bromfield is a
gossip column fixture, and is cynical about the media. Welcome to the fame
game.
I had first met Dionne Bromfield three weeks previously, in an office at her
record company HQ in Kensington, West London. She was cool, calm and
dressed-up in her favourite clothes: skinny jeans and boots. She wore a
salmon pink Juicy Couture raincoat, bought for her as a birthday present by
her godmother. Her mother, Julie, an old friend of Winehouse, was next door.
She isn’t present at Dionne’s interviews. “I can hold my own, I’m not
stupid, I’m not gonna say something I’m not meant to say,” Dionne insists.
And indeed, she boasts a practised and sensible line in rebuttal and fudge,
particularly when it comes to her godmother (“Well, I’m not gonna speak for
Amy . . .”). Born in East London and raised in South London — her mother is
English, her dad Jamaican — Dionne told me that, from the age of 10, people
had been commenting on her voice. “I thought I sounded like a strangled dog
or something. But then eventually I was like, ‘If people are telling me I’m
good something must be there’. I mean, I still don’t rate myself. But people
must think I’m good to get a record deal.”
Initially she went into a studio to record some songs, seemingly just for fun.
“Then Amy won the five Grammys and she was like, ‘D’you know what, I wanna
sign you.’ I was like, ‘OK then.’ She was like, ‘D’you wanna do it?’ And I
was like ‘Hell yeah!’ and we ended up where we are today really.”
The teenager — whose musical heroes are Aretha Franklin, Beyoncé and Ne-Yo —
has a great, remarkably mature voice. Introducing Dionne Bromfield —
14 months in the making — is an accomplished collection of well-turned-out
covers, including Ain’t No Mountain High Enough and My Boy
Lollipop. “That’s Amy’s favourite song,” she twinkles, adding that it’s
one of three songs on which Winehouse sings backing vocals.
“She’s helped so, so, so, so, so, so much on my album, so much,” she adds
excitedly. “She’s down there all the time with me, in the studio, doing her
own stuff but mostly my stuff.” Given the absence of any new material from
Winehouse, Introducing ... is a fine, baby-soul replacement. Not an
album for Dionne’s peers but for their elder siblings, or their parents. As
she puts it: “Everyone’s like, ‘Oh, Amy’s not got anything out, so let’s
listen to this then . . .’ ”
But what’s it like having a woman suffering from crack-cocaine blues as a
mentor? Even now that she is, according to her dad, on the mend, Winehouse
is a magnet for mayhem. A few days after our school meeting, I encountered
Dionne again, at the Q Awards last week in the Grosvenor Hotel. Winehouse,
flanked by two bodyguards and surrounded by reporters, appeared late on
stage to present the Specials with an award. In the middle of this scrum was
Dionne, being led by the hand by Winehouse round the crowded ceremony.
“What Amy does with her life is what Amy does with her life,” replies Dionne
with a soundbite polish that comes of having been dispatched, courtesy of
her godmother’s millions, to a vocal and media training camp in Los Angeles
for two weeks. “I can’t sit there and say, ‘Don’t do this and don’t do
that’. But obviously it’s not nice reading something about anybody. But
she’s on top now. She’s getting better.”
Is it appropriate for a 13-year-old to be a pop star? “I think it is,” says
Dionne when we meet again at the Phoenix. “As long as you’re doing it for
the right reasons. If I was doing it because I wanted to see myself in
magazines, what’s the point of me bothering? I’m doing this — I’m not trying
to be cocky – because I know I can sing.”
“I think that would be the choice of the family,” is Ms Spencer’s answer.
“It’s not something that every parent would wish for their child because
there is the stress side of the industry, and also the publicity and being
mobbed in the street. Her life will change immensely once she’s established.
So there’s a negative side to that.” Dionne refuses to compare her situation
to that of Miley Cyrus, who, at just 16, is the most famous teenage pop star
in the world. “I’m not a wannabe Miley Cyrus. But you probably mostly get
that in America — the Disney Channel, you know what they’re like. They’ve
got how many kids under their roof? I’m not doing it for the fame, no.”
But this is the year Michael Jackson died — arguably the greatest
child-star/tragic-adult parable in pop history. Dionne bats that away, too.
“When I look at Michael Jackson I think, ‘Wow . . .’ I don’t look at him as
a child molester. I don’t believe anything what they say about Michael. But
I just won’t go down that route anyway.”
Dionne is aware of the danger of fame, “the bad stuff — drugs basically”, she
acknowledges. “I’m not stupid, I’m not gonna do that sort of stuff. My feet
are firmly on the ground. You just don’t do it,” she shrugs. “That’s it. End
of story. You just don’t do it.” You have the strength of character to just
say no? “Exactly.” In the auditorium at the Phoenix, after Dionne has
performed three songs, a call from the stage — any aspiring singers in the
room who’d like to have a go on the mike?
Charmaine Serieux, 15, pops up and sings an impressive, acappella version of
Mariah Carey’s Hero. Amid rapturous applause from her
schoolmates, Dionne mugs that Charmaine can take over.
The pupils ask questions from the floor. Was she nervous on Strictly Come
Dancing? “No, I get more nervous singing in front of three people than
three million.” What advice would Dionne give to anyone who wants to be a
singer? “Stick to it, and do it cos you want it as a career rather than cos
you want to be in the papers.” Was she bullied at school? “No.” How is it
having Amy Winehouse as a godmother? “She’s just a normal person really.”
Winehouse wants to co-write with Dionne for the teenager’s next album. “I’ve
written four songs at the moment,” Dionne tells me. “But there’s nothing
really to write about apart from ‘I get on the bus and go to school’ sort of
thing.”
Bromfield, a sweet but savvy kid, focused without being brattily precocious,
has had, in a way, the best kind of role model. She’s seen what her
godmother has been through. She knows the scrutiny on her — the tabloid
anticipation of another “child star meltdown” — will be all the greater for
it. She knows what to expect and, hopefully, what to avoid.
“I wanna be a good influence on children that would look up to me,” Dionne
smiles. “But obviously Amy’s been through a bit of bad stuff. I’m gonna stay
away from that, keep my head on the right path. And Amy also tells me, ‘Keep
your feet on the ground’.”
SMALL TALK
On the teenage hunger for fame The X Factor and Britain’s Got
Talent are to blame. They’re both entertainment, but you could be really
rubbish. The Irish twins John and Edward on The X Factor should have
gone on Britain’s Got Talent as a comedy act. They would have
won!
On Amy Winehouse signing her If she thought I sung like a Barbie doll I
think she wouldn’t have done it.
On fashion If I make a lot of money, I’ll buy Marc Jacobs or Fendi,
them nice, nice clothes! I bought a really nice Ed Hardy top in America and
my mum washed it and it ruined it.
On work I can only do seven hours a day, and I’m only allowed to be on
television till 10.30pm. Unless it’s pre-recorded, then that’s all right.
But my mum’s very protective.
Introducing Dionne Bromfield is out now on Island
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