In 1995, a photo of André Rieu and his family appeared in a Dutch magazine. That image—now decades old—remains one of the few publicly available pictures of his wife, Marjorie. Since then, she has chosen to live outside the public eye, and out of respect for her privacy, no unauthorized or intrusive images are shared. Only the official photographs taken for their book and promotional materials are still circulated, preserving her dignity.
In one of those early photos, André stands beside Marjorie, radiating the same charm he brings to the stage. The caption notes that unlike the solemn expressions often seen in classical performances, André smiles through every waltz, aiming to make the world dance with him. He enjoys dancing, too—although he once joked that his first waltz with Marjorie nearly ended in a breakup rather than romance.
André’s family is deeply rooted in music. His brother Robert Rieu lives in Marseille, where he reportedly plays cello in a local orchestra. A 2004 family photo captures André with Robert and another brother, Pierre. His brother Jean-Philippe worked closely with him between 2001 and 2004, co-composing pieces such as Lost Heroes and Please, Don’t Go, with lyrics by Marjorie. After going their separate ways professionally, Jean-Philippe continued composing independently. His recent release, Azur, reflects his evolving musical voice. Though their paths diverged, recent reports hint that he and André may be collaborating again.
Their sister Teresia Rieu, a gifted harpist, has taught at conservatories in Maastricht, Arnhem, and Rotterdam. She mentored notable students such as Manja Smits, Ellen Versney, Bianca Tabois, and Manou Liebert, who later formed a harp duo. The youngest sibling, Gaby Buirma-Rieu, lives in Limburg with her husband Bert and their five children. Deeply committed to her Catholic faith, Gaby speaks openly about raising children with strong spiritual values. Morning prayers, attending Mass while traveling, and entrusting life to God are integral to her family’s daily routine. She describes André as a loving and warm-hearted brother.
Little is publicly known about their sister Cillia, and their mother has also chosen a quiet life. However, unconfirmed reports suggest she still rides her bicycle through the streets of Maastricht—a charming image of Dutch resilience. Now likely in her eighties, she must feel great pride in the son to whom she once handed a violin at age five, and in the legacy he’s created since.
André’s son Marc Rieu has followed his own artistic path as a painter. Known for his romantic sensibility and broad knowledge of music, Marc is humble and kind in person. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting him and even own one of his paintings, which I treasure.
The Rieu family—filled with musicians, artists, and deeply devoted individuals—reflects not just talent, but a powerful sense of connection, creativity, and warmth. It’s a fitting backdrop to the man who continues to bring the joy of the waltz to the world.
