SEPULCHRE 1 (Photography) - Melanie Laetitia Mantis
(Germany, German & English language) - UPCOMING PUBLICATION.
The additional text material to this photography book contains an extensive interview on the matter of death, cemeteries, the decline of western civilisation and photography.
Publisher: RedMantis Productions

SCHWARZ & MAGISCH Ausgabe 4
(Germany, German language) - June XLIII A.S.
"Kultur-Terror made in Germany - Ein Interview mit Witch Melanie Laetitia Mantis".
Extensive interview about art, self expression, provocation and cultural terror.
Publisher: Edition Esoterick. Please note that the artworks printed along with the interview have been modified by the publisher without permission/agreement.

Infernus Magazine #4 (online) & Infernus Antologia (printed)
(Portugal, portuguese language) - March XLII A.S. (Infernus #4) / Samhain XLII A.S. (Infernus Antologia) Three pages interview. Publisher: Associação Portuguesa de Satanismo / HellOutro Enterprises.

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The German government decided that the German people isn't able to think for themself anymore. To protect the poor German citizen from the evils of German history, and to keep him small and conscience-stricken, certain symbols and opinions are prohibited in Germany. Showing such symbols in public will be punished with incarceration up to three years and a penalty. The prohibition even goes so far, that it is not possible for a German citizen, to reach certain sites on eBay, that might be offering something that could remind of the huge collective guilt lasting on the shoulders of those who are receptive for such. Lately I read the slogan "Don't buy from Nazis" somewhere. The same people who emit such paroles are the ones, who feel reminded of Hitler's so-called terror-regime every time they see a sharp uniform or even a black and white image with high contrast and aesthetically pleasing persons on it. Are you kidding me? How can you be reminded like this, when you were born in the seventies? And how can you stand your own face in the mirror emiting something like the above mentioned parole at the same time, totally blending out your collective memory complex? The witch hunt is lose again.

These restrictions do not count for art you might say. Basically true. But art is a subject of interpretation. For instance, the "Kuenstlersozialkasse" (social/health insurance for artists and publicists in Germany) has denied my entry in 2005, when I became a full-time artist, because they do not accept my work. I only asked once, because I had to go the way of bureaucracy, when I left another live as a scientist behind. I never asked again, because in an ideal world of mine there would not be a social insurance at all, so to hell with that one.

I pay for my health insurance myself, because I am legally obligated to have one, although I haven't seen any medical treatment for more than twelve years now, and needless to say that I pay more, like I would as an accepted artist. But this is fine with me (apart from the fact that I would prefer another way to ensure my health than feeding a legal obligation constantly with my money, for things I do not need), because this way I don't have to render an account every few month to someone who sits at a desk and decides if my art is art. Instead of paying a lawyer to push my right through, and ending up controlled by bureaucrats, I rather sit back and do my own thing, and watch a few Euros more going by, to ensure this state of being.

But back to the point. If you would live in a country, where a small bureaucrat can decide about your status as an artist, what would you expect a public prosecutor might say, who closes the stable door after the horse has bolted? I am philosophically not the kind of person who stands for commonly accepted ideas, I am an avowed social darwinist and a satanist, and I am not even a fan of democracy. So would it be wise to publish art that is questionable concerning the laws of my homecountry and hope no one will mind? I don't think so. I decided not to put a few of my creations into a public light at this point. At this point. Nota bene. The last word hasn't been spoken yet.

© January XLIII A.S. Melanie Laetitia Mantis

Somewhen in the mideighties my parents stuffed me, my grandmother and tons of things into the car, to take a holiday in Denmark on the island Bornholm. I spent the whole car trip pressed against three piled suitcases, that left a tiny cleft to the right backdoor of the car. This cleft was supposed to be my seating area. The suitcase on top of the pile came closer to my face in every curve and I had to press my hands against it more than once, not to be hit by it and pushed against the window. On the ferry to the island I gave in to my yearly ritual of puking all over the place. It was the third year that I performed this habit, as I always got seasick from the rolling and the smells of the ferries. Sometimes we spent way too much time in the car areas, because my parents weren´t able to recall where they had left the car and we had to look for it on every damn floor. When I realized that this would be the same every year I decided to memorize it myself the next time, but my parents decided to go to Italy instead.

This kind of family holidays, with its yearly pre-event of packing hundreds of household goods, clothes, shoes and food, my father getting in a violent temper because the car was full and my mother almost crying, but still packing more stuff she might needed far from home, became a returning memory of my childhood.

The most annoying thing of all was, that away from home we all had to spend more time together than usually. At home we used to split ways as often as possible and everyone did his own thing, although my mothers thing was spying on me and cleaning the flat, she was at least busy. My grandmother lived in Rotterdam those years and was just a visitor of our family, and my father spent his spare time with sports, watching it, listening to it on the radio, reading about it in the papers and of course playing football. Too bad I was a girl.

Watching my parents kill their time, could as well end in witnessing stupidity in action. Not seldomly someone got hurt accidentially on such occassions. My father was a big expert in this area. I would like to call him a graduate in stupidity. I saw him beaten unconcious by a football on a football field from taking a header wrong and on another holiday I just came around the corner to find him covered with blood that was running out of a head wound that he has taken by the surprise that the house had corners and a low roof that is pointy at the corners.

On this special vacation he decided to kick a football around the house, which was a quite secluded place in the woods in the South of Bornholm. He wore some shorts, sport shoes and the obligate white socks, exposing his almost red burned legs and the upper part of his body to the grey sky, because sun could come out any minute now. Maybe he saw  himself running down an imaginary football field, when he suddenly kicked an unusual high pass and the football ended up in a treetop, stucked between some branches.

Well, the wise man got himself a piece of fireplace wood, to throw it after the football, that it might fall down the tree. But as the ball was trepped there, the woodpiece might share its destiny, he thought. Prepared for this case he took a slightly expandable clothesline and attached it to the woodpiece. It was the kind of thing that is ready made for a fireplace, heavy, with sharp angles from the axe. Can you imagine where this story goes? Of course the piece of wood got trapped fastly in the tree, with the football remaining untouched. He started to pull the clothesline to get it back, but it wasn´t as easy as he expected it to be. He pulled harder, leaning himself into the pull, shaking the poor tree back and forth. This may have been the invention of a new string instrument that a giant could play, but it was indeed an act so stupid, that even as a child I knew what was to come next. Of course I didn´t say anything, because I knew that my opinion surely wasn´t asked in this sensible operation.

Well, the woodpiece got loose from the tree and due to the tense pull of the string, it did so with a huge speed. Faster than he could fall on his ass, the wood hit his chest and knocked him down with intensity. His hole chest became a big bruise that was going through interesting color spectra during the follwing weeks. The pain must have been adequate to the stupidity of the act. The football remained in the treetop for the rest of our stay and no one knows how much longer.

© XXXVII A.S. Melanie Laetitia Mantis

In autumn XXXVII A.S. I spent a totally mad week in New York City, which would make a story of its own, but here I will give an extract from my New Orleans trip that followed. I thought it would be nice to have some casual company in the deep South, so I went to meet an old aquaintance in Baltimore, after taking "white trash lines(1)" to leave New York behind. Together we went on a plane to fly down to the Big Easy.

Well, we obviously had different expectations of this trip. While she wanted to do everything right and together with me, I was quite fastly annoyed by her enthusiasm. We hadn´t seen each other for a long time and she was full of informations that she wanted me to know about her, which recommended to spend time together of course. As I thought of casual company I did not have psychotherapeutical sessions on full time basis on my mind. It seemed like an irony that the hostel keeper played "This Boots Are Made For Walking" more than once when I passed through the lobby area.

I could hardly share her zest for tourist action, because the sun burned down mercilessly and the mosquitos rode in on a wave of humidity. I still had traces of New York City under my eyes and I wanted to shoot images on the local cemeteries, the Cities of the Dead, rather than walk miles to see some retards, that dance and clap hands for tourist´s amusement. I did bring a black umbrella like I always do, when I have my camera equipment with me and I used it to shelter me from the sun, while we were waiting at a bus stop. Fastly I was enlightened of the fact that I have some strange habits, that are not very welcome to be company with. Later she found out, that not just my habits, but also my attitude (which she classified as negative) towards my environment was not a welcome company either. But as we went together on this trip she had the strange idea that we would work this out.

It was worse in the evenings, although I couldn´t wait for the sun to set. I tried to tell her more than one evening, that it was quite okay for me to sit with a cold drink in the backyard under a tree, rather than joining a jazz club, something she had become obsessed with, to get the "real New Orleans feeling". She told me that I have to listen to some jazz in New Orleans, because it´s New Orleans. Such arguments don´t count with me. If I don´t like jazz I don´t like it, no matter in what freaking place of the world it will be performed. As you might guess already, it ended with her calling me a negative person, that doesn´t have an open mind for other peoples cultures. Oh well.

Another thing she seemed obsessed with, was the "do everything right thing". And she had quite a lot to tell about it. Well, politely at first, I listened to all her complaints and sorrows about her world and her future. She was so sure that I would understand her perspective and support it, that it was almost amusing to listen. At least as long as I could sit in the shades and have a cold drink of course. The food wasn´t bad either and I could enjoy the strange combination of scampi and maccharoni and cheese on the same dish one day. I wanted to enjoy things and relax and I wouldn´t have told her my opinion at all, if she hadn´t constantly asked for my point of view.

She also told me that she found the root of all her problems, which was her mother from her point of view. She described her as a person who can´t leave people alone and who feels responsible for everything. With this new insight I felt much better. I tried to get away from the personal issues, because I had enough information that I hadn´t asked for. Finally we got into a discussion about science and as expected we ended up at different shores. As she explained the importance of correct basis data for further scientific works, I remarked that science is a paradigma that man has constructed, as well as religion or right and wrong. And that there always will be some misintepretations of course, because people make mistakes. "But things that can be evidenced..." she tried to add. "...are true?" I asked. Well, my point became interesting and more fastly irrational, because I asked too many questions suddenly. The next day we spend on different routes.

Meanwhile I met a chef from Australia, who was a welcome change in conversation. Travelled far, he had lots of amusing stories to tell. I met this guy in the backyard and we spend the afternoon sharing travel anecdotes. In the evening my travel companion joined us again. We all decided to pay a visit to the French Quarter and get a couple more drinks there. I mostly agreed because we were out of drinks and I finally had my lazy day. Well, we lost her after the second pub, if my brain recalls the scene correctly, because she needed to go back to the hostel due to the appearance of a sudden headache. Did you ever wished that ignorance would hurt? Well, I think sometimes it does.

The chef and I weren´t finished yet with consuming all the drinks that we wanted and we went on to some strange goth venue. I forgot the name, but the hole place seemed to have walls covered with skulls, which may ring a bell to someone. When we arrived at the club, it was packed with tourists and I thought that it may have been a mistake to leave the chair under the tree behind. I sent the chef to get more drinks. Surprisingly all tourists went out about half an hour later and we were left with two hands of people. The music got better and we started to dance in one of the rooms that had a huge mirror on the wall. In the end it was only the chef and me left, still dancing like we got paid for it. Well, and as we did not stop, they threw us out into the warm rain, when no one else wasn´t in the club anymore. It was a pleasure to walk back to the hostel during the nightly rain.

The next day was our last evening and we decided to cook a nice feast, well, I decided to pick and the chef was the one to cook of course. My travel companion joined again. Fine with me, so she could pay part of the shopping bill. We had bought a huge amount of big scampi, garlic, herbs, lemons, fresh bread and wine and the evening went surprisingly well. I can get very satisfied by eating tasty things and it was a beautiful full moon sky in the backyard of the house. Our conversation was a bit strange though. Every time I was stating an opinion to something, she added: "You don´t mean what you say. I do know you better. You are a nice person, really. You just have such negative attitudes." Well, at least with one point she was right. I am a nice person if you don't annoy me. The chef went more and more confused during the evening, because he couldn´t figure out what was going on between us strange girls. We had lots of fun that evening in the club, so he had no idea what the headache girl was talking about.

Later in the night we started to struggle on some subject again. I guess it was family issues, although I don´t remember the details anymore. To cut the discussion short, I remarked that we will end up at different shores again, by discussing anything seriously, because we neither share common morals nor philosophical ideas. When she asked me to explain my point I could tell by the looks of her face that she would say: "I know that you don´t mean that. You just had some bad experience with people. I know that you are a good person". Surprised that I missed out this lesson? I went to bed.

We went to the airport next morning to fly back to Baltimore. Because there were lots of security stations to pass, to get into the flight area (and we arrived three hours too early for the marathon due to her planning), I suggested to stay outside, to get some cafe latte and smoke a cigarette. She told me that she would prefer to go in already and that I can have my coffee and cigarette inside. Tired about arguments I agreed. I would have walked away if there hadn´t been the small detail of a confirmation number, that I had needed for the flight and that was in her hands, because she had booked it from Baltimore before I arrived. Of course there was no smoking area inside and I had to take a long walk to get my coffee. As I dared to mention that it would have been nicer outside, she finally exploded. And away was the mask that she had tried so hard to hold up, in order to be a good person. Screaming she accused me to be an antisocial element, that she had tried so hard to make everything the way I wanted it, but that I am a person one can´t get along with. I wish she'd realized that earlier.

Well, I decided that I would take the next bus from Baltimore to NYC, leaving the good girl behind. But before I could do so, we had to spend some more hours together, to get back to Baltimore. We conversed friendly again after a while. I told her what she wanted to hear and she even took care that I got safe on the bus to NYC. And in the end she even was completely right for some hours, on just one subject. I didn´t mean what I said to her...  (...anymore).

© XXXVII A.S. Melanie Laetitia Mantis

Do you sell prints of your artworks / photographies?
Yes. Click here: RedMantis Productions.

Can you make a cover / booklet / illustration for my book / magazine / CD / webproject?
I do work in comission, but keep in mind that death and disease are for free - my work is not.

Can I use the photograph / artwork "insert name" for my project?
See answer above.

I have no budget at all, can I use your art / photography for free for my project?
See answer above.

Can I use your art when I give you credit?
Giving a copyright statement / credit is expected, if you use my work and does not replace a payment. See answer above.

How much and how do I have to pay for your work?
Be more specific about your project. What do you want? "How" is no problem at all, there are many ways, I am sure one will fit your possibilities.

How long does it take to create my cover / layout / etc?
Be more specific about your project. Contact me as early as you can, to make sure your project fits into my schedule.

I need a promo shooting for my band, can you do that?
Yes. I am not sure if I want to though, tell me who you are and we can get back to your first question.

I want a portrait of me, do you do that?
See answer above.

Can you make a website for me?
I do not maintain websites anymore, unless they belong to myself, my company or my family. The payment is simply not worth the trouble. 

Can I see a draft for my project before I hire you?
I do not create any drafts before you hire me. There are tons of references of my works around, those should give you enough of an idea about my visual ideas and skills.

When do you release a new book?
Click here: EVIDENCE or visit the website of RedMantis Productions. 

Where do I get your FA-rune shirt / the anatomy box?
Nowhere. It was a special, timely limited offer that is long gone. 

What happened to your cafepress store?
Quit asking, it sucked.

Do you exhibit your works?
Yes. Click here: EXPOSED.

Aren´t you wasting your talent with all that dark images? / Can´t you do something more friendly?
Aren´t you wasting your time with asking stupid questions? I am doing what I want and I am creating what I like. There is nothing to discuss. If you do not like my works simply stop looking at them.

What photography equipment do you use?
Over the years I acquired a whole collection of equipment, analog and digital, from Canon, Minolta and Pentax. My current digital fave is a Canon EOS model. I have a whole collection of lenses as well (35-70, 70-210, 18-55, 55-200, 135, 50, 28, 16mm), and tons of filters, adapters, extension tubes, lights and photometer. I also maintain my own studio, which is curently constructed in my new home.

What tools do you use for your artworks?
For my digital collages: My camera equipment, the living and the dead, a scanner, Photoshop.
I also still include classical methods into my works, for I have an interest in painting and sculpting as well.

Where do you get all the material from, that you include into your art? / Do you use the work of other photographers and artists as well?
I collect all material myself with my cameras. I have traveled over four continents and through countless countries to acquire the archive I call my own today. I keep things in my refridgerator that I do not want to eat but photograph (no, it is not mold!). I never include something into my personal art that hasn´t been captured by myself before. Only if a commissioned project or a collaboration requires it I include other peoples works.

I am learning Photoshop. Can I use one of your photographies to work on?
On the bottom on each and every webpage of mine you can find the following words: "Images may not be incorporated neither into other works nor modified from their original form." Yes, that´s basically a no, unless you are willing to purchase the rights to use a photograph.

What camera should I buy?
The one that suits your needs best. I have done a lot of research for every piece of equipment I bought and you should do that, too. No, I am not doing this for you, it is a very time consuming endeavour and it would require me to know more details about you than I want to know. See the research part as a learning lesson about your tools, for if you seriously want to become a photographer you rather learn well how to use a camera. There are millions of people out there with expensive equipment who have no idea about their tools and just use them in programmed modi. A good photographer can get better results out of a cheap or old camera, than a laymon with the latest expensive tool who is scared of the manual and practising hours.

Can you review my works?
I could, but I mostly don't want to.

Why is your website in english, you speak German, don´t you? / Warum ist deine Webseite in Englisch? Du sprichst doch eigentlich Deutsch, oder?
Yes, I do speak German. In der Tat spreche ich deutsch. Ganz hervorragend sogar, denn ich bin in Deutschland geboren und aufgewachsen, auch wenn es mir heute hier mancherorts eher wie die Tuerkei vorkommt. Ich ziehe es jedoch vor, meine Webseite auf englisch zu halten, da ich international arbeite und meine Kontakte recht weit ueber diesen Planeten vertreut sind. Anfragen auf deutsch sind natuerlich trotzdem willkommen.

Do you need a model for shootings?
I have some projects on my list that would require a model, if some day I find the time to bring them into reality. With other words, I am not seeking currently, but it can´t hurt to apply. But don´t send me blury snapshots of you eating ice cream in your holidays (believe it or not, it has happened!), and ask before you send something, mails from strangers with uninvited attachments might get deleted accidentally as spam.

Can you survive doing what you do?
I am a Satanic Witch. What do you think?

Why are your images always about death?
They are not, look again.

Your stuff is so dark / You are so dark. Are you depressed? / Are you a lonely person?
I can assure you I am neither depressed nor lonely. I have the best friends this world has to offer and I am a Satanic Witch married to the antichrist. It could not be any better.

Aren´t you scared on a cemetery?
No, I am not scared of rotting corpses. That´s the course of nature. The brainless masses of zombies I encounter when visiting any Metropolis scare me from time to time though, for they do not seem natural to me at all.

Don´t you have nightmares about the stuff you create?
No. I do have some very strange dreams from time to time, but I mostly enjoy them for there isn´t anything in the subconscious world that manages to scare me. But maybe I´ll direct YOUR next nightmare.

Melanie Laetitia Mantis isn´t really your name, isn´t it?
It is not my birth name indeed, apart from "Melanie" (deriving from the greek word for "darkness"), but for me it is more real than any name for me could be. For short I prefer you call me Laetitia, I don´t mind if you pronounce it in your native tongue. It sounds good in any language.

Where do you get your ideas from? / What inspires you?
All my interests are feeding me with inspiration. If you want to know what interests me visit my damn myspace profile, there is a long list of things to my taste.

What is your favourite image you created?
The answer depends on the day the question is asked. Today: Hiber Nation.

Can you recommend some books / movies / music to me?
Quit asking and go visit my damn myspace profile already. There is a list of things that do interest me.

Do you really believe in magic / k?
I am not a believer, I am a creator. If you wish to know if I practise magic, the answer is yes.

Are you a Satanist? / A member of the Church of Satan?
Yes, isn't that obvious?

What is your status within the Church of Satan?
Since April 2007 I bear the title "Witch" within this organisation and since Walpurgisnacht 2008 Highpriest Peter H. Gilmore allows me to represent the Church of Satan if I feel inclined to. Sometimes I do.

So you worship the devil?
Basically I worship myself and I am kind of tired to discuss this.

Can you teach me something? 
Create your own path or better: fade into oblivion, that´s more suitable for people who asks such questions.

I need a spell for "---insert human standard wish---", can you help me?
I don´t want to. Seriously, what's wrong with you, why do you think that I would want to waste my time with summoning up a pipe dream for you? But wait, you're not accidentally filthy rich, aren't you? Everything has its price ;-)

Are you really a doctor or is it a joke?
No, it´s not a joke. The title is neither bought nor married, although I am sure you'd expect something like that from me. Believe it or not, it was given to me by a German university in early 2005. Save yourself the time to search for my name all over, I have published my thesis under my birth name. Yes, of course I can prove it.

Is it true that you "---insert any kind of rumor---"?
Decide for yourself. I don't give a damn shit what people say about me and whether its true or not.

Can I meet you?
Meet me for what? If you have a serious business request we can talk about that, if this question is a private one my answer is basically no. I am not much of a social person, because most people bore me to death after a few minutes and my time is precious to me. Nevertheless I make exceptions for outstanding individuals from time to time. Are you outstanding?

I contacted you a while ago but you never replied. Why did you ignore me?
This might have different reasons.
- Sometimes mail gets lost under tons of spam (I get hundreds of those spam mails every day!), so if your request was a serious one send it again. If this does not help try to message me via my damn myspace profile.
- Sometimes I also overlook one or the other mail because I am usually busy while I am awake and things get in queue. If you think I should pay attention to you, you might want to send your mail again, or use the above mentioned way.
- It might be that you simply had nothing to say to my interest and I thought even opening your mail was a waste of my time. If you're one of those candiates I would suggest you stop sending me mails or messages, but I am sure if you fit that bill you're far away from realizing this yourself.
Pick the one that might suit your case.

Can I shoot photos of you?
I have done some "modeling" once, and I hated it. I feel comfortable behind the camera, not in front of it. But from time to time I can use one or the other photograph of myself. So if you´re serious send me work samples and I maybe consider it. Don´t be disappointed if I don´t, I couldn´t be more picky.

Can I interview you?
I have answered a lot of questions already, but if you still aren´t tired from reading my answers and have a serious project going on, send me work samples and I maybe consider it.


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