Behind the Curtain with André Rieu: How the World’s Most Popular Classical Violinist Balances Stardom, Family, and a Love for Music

The Private Life of André Rieu: A Musician Who Never Stops Playing

André Rieu - YouTube

To the world, André Rieu is the master showman of classical music—the Dutch violinist who transformed waltz into a global concert spectacle, filling stadiums with a devoted following that spans generations. But behind the glittering stage, the confetti showers, and the sweeping performances of The Blue Danube, lies a quieter, deeply personal world where music, family, and simple pleasures define a man who lives and breathes melody.

Born in Maastricht, Netherlands, in 1949, Rieu still calls his hometown home. His residence—a picturesque 15th-century castle nestled among trees and gardens—looks like something out of a fairytale. But unlike many global superstars who retreat into gated mansions and private islands, Rieu’s home life is strikingly grounded. “I love being here,” he once said. “The garden, the air, the quiet—I need it to stay balanced.”

That balance is crucial. Rieu’s life is an endless waltz between continents. With his self-founded Johann Strauss Orchestra—the largest private orchestra in the world—he tours relentlessly, performing more than 100 shows a year across Europe, the Americas, Asia, and beyond. His concerts are not just performances—they’re theatrical experiences. Expect laughter, tears, dancing in the aisles, and even pantomime bulls running after women in red dresses (if you’ve seen his infamous España Cañi performance, you know exactly what we mean).

Pechanga Arena San Diego - YouTube

Yet, for all the spectacle, what keeps Rieu grounded is his unwavering daily routine. He wakes early—often around 6:30 AM—brews himself a strong espresso, and practices the violin every morning, without fail. “Even when I’m tired from touring, I play,” he says. “If I don’t, I don’t feel whole. Music is like breathing.”

His wife, Marjorie, has been his quiet strength for over five decades. The couple met when they were young—he a passionate violin student, she an intellectual with a love for literature and education. Today, she manages the business side of Rieu’s musical empire and has co-written several projects with him, though she stays mostly out of the public eye. “She’s my everything,” Rieu says simply.

Together, they have two sons, Pierre and Marc. While neither pursued a career as a performer, Pierre plays an instrumental role in managing logistics and production for his father’s tours. The Rieu family, though not always in the spotlight, is deeply involved in the engine that keeps this classical juggernaut running.

When not on stage or in rehearsal, Rieu enjoys simple pleasures: gardening, cooking, walking through the streets of Maastricht, or curling up with a good historical novel. He’s known to hum melodies while pruning roses or tending to the trees in his expansive garden. “Nature inspires music,” he often says. “There’s rhythm in everything if you listen closely.”

Despite his status as one of the best-selling classical musicians in history—with over 40 million albums sold and billions of YouTube views—Rieu remains incredibly connected to his fans. His social media presence is warm, humorous, and personal. Whether he’s sharing behind-the-scenes tour moments, mishaps on stage, or birthday wishes for his musicians, fans around the world feel like part of his extended musical family.

Of course, not everyone in the classical world has embraced his populist style. Some purists have labeled his performances as “too theatrical” or “sentimental.” But Rieu is unfazed. “I play everything in its original form,” he says. “I don’t add beats to Bach. But I bring joy—and for some, that’s unforgivable.” Then, with a twinkle in his eye, he adds, “Maybe they’re just jealous.”

As the years go on, André Rieu shows no signs of slowing down. If anything, his concerts feel more alive than ever, his passion more contagious. For Rieu, retirement is not an option—not because he refuses to let go, but because he genuinely cannot imagine a day without the violin in his hand or music in his heart.

“I’m not just a musician,” he says. “I’m a man in love—with life, with music, with bringing joy to others. Why would I ever stop?”