A merciful release
The story of singer-songwriter Evon Brenna is one of triumph over
adversity. Brought to Ireland at two months old along with her twin sister
Evon found herself placed in religious care for no other reason than her
mother being Irish and unmarried and her father African — a devastating
combination in 1970s Ireland.
With the release of her album Small Mercies imminent the singer
talks with Grainne McLoughlin about growing up and how she saw much of
her life re-lived watching the film The Magdalene Sisters.
 By Grainne
McLoughlin
Small Mercies is the name of your second album. Is the significance
of the title directly related to the fact that it was the Sisters of Mercy
who raised you?
Well there’s no doubt Small Mercies is based on my childhood experiences
and growing up as a complete outsider. It was a harsh environment, which
was strict and unloving.
The album is named after the Sisters of Mercy that raised me but is in
appreciation of their mercies. This album is basically me being able to
talk about myself. I know that sounds very egotistical and it’s
not meant to be.
My first album was called Unplugged but it was very different to this
one. Small Mercies is something I’ve always wanted to do but there’s
never been a right time until now.
The CD is really dedicated to those who have lost their childhood. It’s
the small mercies in life that I’m very grateful for. It’s
the small mercies that can so easily be taken for granted yet it’s
those that really matter.
Has producing this album helped with the recovery process?
It has. I mean there were certain songs that I really did find difficult
approaching — for example Long Ago and Pauline but it has helped
and I hope it will help others as well.
I’m very pleased with it. It took over eight months to do but it
was really nice to be able to take time with the songs and not feel rushed
or pressured to finish by a certain deadline.
As I was in charge, I had that freedom to experiment which was fantastic.
I really enjoyed being in the driver’s seat.
Was music something you’ve always been passionate about?
It really was. I think when I was a child, music was my saviour to be
honest. The fact I could actually go and play piano enabled me to separate
myself from what was going on in my life — that is industrial school.
Being able to play and sing was a great distraction.
In terms of making a career out of it, I knew it would be very difficult,
but I was determined even from the age of 15.
You obviously had a difficult childhood growing up in Ireland
and you’ve since left to live in Britain. Are you bitter at all?
No I’m not. I’ve done a lot of work with myself in relation to
what happened. I’m sad about it because it’s a childhood wasted
but I’m more focused now on catching up for lost time. I don’t
see the good in pointing the finger of blame.
I just think that it’s unfortunate that these were my circumstances.
I don’t think it was the fault of individual people — it was
just the way society was run at that time.
In terms of Ireland I have been back a few times. I’ve been to my
home as I call it, but that was pretty sad. I mean Ireland for me has
two very different elements. I love the fact it’s so wild and rural
which makes for great imaginative escape but the negative side is simply
how harsh a reality my experience there was.
I know it’s a terrible situation to be in to have to learn
something but what did you take away from your childhood?
I’ve learnt now how awful it was, that’s the first thing.
And coming to terms with the awfulness is very positive because you can
change it.
From that awfulness, has come something unique — my music. I’ve
realised the music I write is very much related to how my experiences
have shaped me. That’s positive because I now see it as a gift.
Would other people with a similar background take comfort in what you
write and sing about in this album?
I hope so. That’s why I’m going to play in certain places
in Dublin and London so people like myself can let go and move on.
Music is a healer and it is a way forward. And the Irish are passionate
about music. We’ve seen that in times of deprivation when music
has held people together. It can transcend a lot of things if you can
get people to sing or play. It’s certainly been my saviour.
Do you know anything of your parents musical ability? Did you
ever get to meet them?
I don’t know my parents but I’ve heard my father might have
come from a musical family — a famous African guitar player.
I tried to get in contact with my mum but unfortunately I was a little
bit late because she died very suddenly about four years ago. My father
is a whole other story — I have tried to contact him but there are
an awful lot of things attached which I’d rather not get into to
be honest.
The story of how young children — who didn’t fit
in with the times of religious Ireland — were abused at the hands
of authorities was made particularly graphic in the movie The Magdalene
Sisters. Did you watch that film and how did you feel?
I could connect to the Magdalene Sisters entirely. Obviously it was an
older generation but it made no difference because they carried the very
similar ways of the ’50s right into the ’70s. It got slightly
better for us of course because the grip wasn’t as tight as schools
were closing down, but there were a lot of similarities.
You have a seven-year-old son. Has your experience affected your
relationship with him?
I would hope I’m more conscious of his development as a result.
I’m sure there are times when I do things unconsciously because
of how I was raised because after all that’s the only point of reference
for me. And to be conscious 24/7 is a struggle for anyone. But on the
most part I do the best that I can, and I’d hope that I’m
a good parent.
Do you struggle with your identity?
I used to have a lot of difficulty with where I came from — sounding
Irish but not looking Irish. But when I came to London I couldn’t
believe the amount of dark people. It was only then that I felt like an
Irish person.
But now I suppose, I see my identity as who I am. It’s not about
being black or Irish, it’s about being me.
You were one of many who took a class action against the Irish
Government due to the treatment you’d received. Was that experience
difficult?
Well, it wasn’t a pleasant experience. It took such a long time
for people to be seen and redressed. I wouldn’t say I came away
happy but it was great to get a chance to say my piece. The opportunity
to tell my story was more rewarding than any financial reward.
I was able to say in a safe place what exactly I thought of my upbringing
and with that I managed to close a lot of doors. I thought, ‘well
I done that and it hasn’t killed me, so I have to move on.’
That for me was great.
Small Mercies is set for release in May. |
