Former members expose mistreatment, gaslighting, and a “manager who turned art into a brand”
The masks have finally come off — and what’s underneath isn’t liberation, it’s rot.
Three core members of the dark art-metal collective DOGMA — vocalist Grace Jane Pasturini (Lilith) and guitarists Amber Maldonado (Lamia) and Patri Grief (Rusalka) — have all walked away from the band, accusing their management of manipulation, mistreatment, and deception toward fans.
Their exit effectively strips DOGMA of its original creative force — the same trio who helped build the band’s occult image, eerie stage personas, and ritualistic live presence. What remains, they claim, is nothing more than a hollow brand run by a man who “turned people into disposable pieces.”
“We loved this project, but what’s being sold today is not Dogma,” the statement reads. “He turned a band into a brand, and people into disposable pieces.”
The once-enigmatic act, celebrated for its gothic mystique and masked anonymity, now stands accused of being controlled by what the ex-members describe as “a threat to Dogma’s future — not an artist or a musician.”
“He betrayed the artists, his partners, and the fans,” they continued. “Replacing people without honesty isn’t who we are. The only one who needs to take off the mask is him.”
“I was detained for 48 hours — and got a message saying: ‘Teach your replacement the songs’”
Former guitarist Patri Grief (Rusalka) went further, detailing her personal ordeal in a lengthy post that feels like a mix between a diary entry and a gothic horror confession.
“I was detained for 48 hours in the U.S. because management wouldn’t provide the proper visa,” she wrote. “When I turned my phone back on, I had a message saying, ‘Hey, I found a replacement, could you teach her the songs?’ Not even an apology.”
That single text became the symbol of what she calls a “cycle of exploitation.”
“He used the fact that he tipped me 100 euros after three tours to make me shut up,” she said. “Every time I set a boundary, I was told I wasn’t ‘committed to the project.’ Every time I spoke up, I was told we ‘complained too much because we’re women.’”
“We were told to eat twice a day. ‘No band ever demands three meals.’”
The conditions, according to Rusalka, bordered on inhumane.
“We had to eat only twice a day because he didn’t want to provide three meals,” she said. “I saw bandmates cry under conditions that we accepted because of the opportunity.”
Even the connection with fans was allegedly hijacked.
“The minute I wasn’t admitted into the U.S., the management took away my account,” she recalled. “Fans were reaching out to Rusalka for help — and suddenly, the person behind the mask was gone.”
“The new Dogma is playback and deception”
Rusalka also accused management of keeping the band name alive under false pretenses, replacing the original lineup with stand-ins and pre-recorded performances.
“I was disappointed to see how easily replaceable we are,” she said. “My character is being played by someone else using playback at live shows that fans can’t even record — all because he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s selling something fans didn’t pay for.”
The final curse
Despite everything, her final words carried both defiance and dark poetry — a closing statement that could easily serve as Dogma’s real epitaph:
“We were joined together in a dark ritual of music and blood. We went through sacrifices you don’t yet know. Our voices will not be silenced. The hexed melody of the coven is dying to be released.”
And Lilith, Lamia, and Rusalka ended their collective message with one haunting instruction:
“The power to change this story starts with your support. Don’t support a lie.”
As of now, the “Official Dogma” social channels continue to promote upcoming tour dates under the existing name — though fans are already flooding the comments with demands for transparency.
