June 21, 2026 De Limburger, Joos Philippens, photos from de Limburger and Chapeau Magazine. Translation: Ineke, edited by Diana D. Le War-torn past inspires Pierre Rieu: 'I want to dedicate myself to peace, because the world is on fire' Pierre Rieu, son of the famous violinist and orchestra conductor André, is working on an "experience about peace". A key driving force is his family history, with a Jewish grandfather and a grandmother in the resistance. "My grandparents' fears have been passed on in my DNA." "What does this remind you of?" Pierre Rieu asks with great interest. We are standing in a recreated café that looks like the set of the 1980s TV series Allo, Allo, which satirized both the Nazis and the French resistance. “Uh, to be honest, I think of Allo, Allo." Rieu responds enthusiastically: “Exactly right! Look, there hangs the Rue Nouvion sign. Up here, we are going to recreate Madame Fanny La Fan’s bedroom.” The café set is located in a warehouse on the outskirts of Maastricht, where Rieu has been collecting military equipment for many years. A tank, Jeeps, Humbers, trucks, and an amphibious vehicle. A remarkable passion for — or is it an obsession with? — war. Where does that come from? The passion turns out to be deeply rooted. Pierre’s grandfather was German and Jewish. “A difficult combination, with his German accent, before, during, and after the war. He came to Maastricht in 1933, when Hitler seized power. His brother volunteered for deportation and was gassed within eight days.“ As a child, Pierre always leafed through photo albums about the Second World War at his grandparents’ house. During his high school years, for a history project, he ended up just across the border in Belgium, at Fort Eben-Emael, the "impregnable" fortress that the Nazis captured with gliders during World War II. Rieu was already giving tours there at the age of 16. What deeply affected him was a visit from two German commanders who had landed at the Fort at the time. "I had photos of them with Hitler. Now I was standing face to face with them, shaking their hands. Suddenly, it all hit very close to home. Just a handshake away from Hitler. But still. Those two were professional soldiers, not Nazis. Not every German was inherently evil; just take my grandfather, for instance. That’s why we in our family are careful not to generalize. Speaking about people as a group is very dangerous. 'Do you want more or fewer Moroccans?' It makes my hair stand on end." At 18, Rieu bought a Willys Jeep, the beginning of his military collecting obsession. "I have a fondness for mechanics, I fixed up that Jeep, and then things got a little bit out of hand." Understatement of the week, amidst the collection of tanks, Jeeps, Humbers, and military trucks. He roars with laughter. Turning Point As a teenager, Pierre was a different person. The intention to do something for peace, as he does now at 44, was far off back then. "I just thought it was cool to drive around in a Jeep like that." His friendship with American war veteran Frank Towers marked a turning point. Towers, who helped liberate Maastricht, saw a train with sealed wagons in East Germany in 1945 while serving as a soldier. Inside, he found 2,500 Jews whom the Nazis had left behind during their flight from the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. That was horror. Towers made it his life's work to track down as many survivors from that train as possible. In 2011, there was a commemoration in Israel. Towers asked his friend Pierre to go along as a buddy. "That gathering was so incredibly emotional. Those people coming face to face with their liberator. Unbelievable!" Afterwards, Pierre struck up a conversation with an Amsterdam woman who had been on that train. They also talked about Pierre’s family. Her husband asked: “What was your grandmother’s name?” At the name Nelly Eijmael, something special happened. The man grabbed Pierre’s cheeks and didn’t let go. “My boy! I am alive thanks to your grandma! You are the first person I can thank. I was in hiding in Maastricht, where she took me from place to place.” Pierre couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I often stayed with my grandparents, but that was never spoken about.” (Article about Nelly Eijmael, click HERE). A few years later, he was back in Israel with his father’s orchestra, where he heard over the walkie-talkie that someone had a gift for him. I said, "'Just take it.’ Not out of arrogance, but I was very busy. Then I heard, ‘It’s about your grandmother.’ That changed everything. I ran outside. A woman had a photo of my grandmother with the entire resistance group."

Betrayed That group was betrayed at the end of the war; many were executed, but his grandmother survived. Warned by a cousin who worked for the PTT, eavesdropped on conversations, and announced raids. Pierre didn't know. It explained a lot in one fell swoop; for a long time, he struggled with inexplicable fears. "Now I knew: their fears have been passed on in my DNA." Something just clicked. "I want to dedicate myself to peace, because I see that the world is on fire. To quote 'Soldier of Orange': if we do nothing, who will?" He is doing something, and that gives him a good feeling. "At least I am trying." Two years ago, it finally clicked when he was speaking with his daughters. "The standard term 'Stop War' has become like an oil light in your car. If it lights up, you have to go to the garage. You forget about it, and after three months, you don't notice that light anymore. Until your car breaks down." Knot “That 'Stop War' has existed for a hundred years. It’s nice that people hang posters behind their windows, but it doesn’t incite action. With my daughters, I turned that into a question: 'Why stop peace?' Next, we tied a knot in the barrel of my tank." Two years ago, his group drove twelve renovated vehicles through Son en Breugel (town), including the tank tied in a knot. “They were all military purists there. I felt the tension surrounding that knot. We handed out bags, stickers, and even condoms with the logo Why Stop Peace? And beautiful conversations got going. Eventually, they understood. But that knot, too, is an outdated symbol. When we do memorial rides again in September around the liberation of Limburg, that knot will be out. That really hurts me, but I realize that it doesn't work anymore. I no longer support it." Pacifism alone is pointless, that is the lesson he has learned. "There are more tanks here in the warehouse than the Dutch army has. Seriously. They were all sold to Argentina. Hopefully, we have learned from that naivety. You have to show muscle to scare off aggressors. I am 100 percent anti-war, against violence; you won't see me angry often, let alone hit someone, but you have to take precautionary measures. A world without war and aggression is nonsense. No more knots in the barrel, then. That is impossible, while we are spending billions on defense and are essentially in a Third World War." Technology The café from Allo, Allo is the gathering place for the forty volunteers who help Rieu in the warehouse. “I can spray paint and weld cars a bit, and I know a bit about engine mechanics. Enough to figure out who we need for which problem. It is a group of friends. Fathers with sons, a notary clerk, an ENT surgeon, someone from asbestos removal, welders, mechanics, farmers.” For Pierre Rieu, being together on Wednesday evenings and Fridays is pure enjoyment. “I really enjoy sharing. Sometimes we just talk. Believe me, I am never alone here.” The military vehicles can only be visited by invitation or by schools that sign up. “I don’t want a museum where eighty headlights stare at you. That tells nothing; it is only fun for vehicle enthusiasts. Discussions about the wrong screws and such.” Through Why Stop Peace, Rieu came up with the idea of a Peace Experience. “I come from the entertainment industry. Children should leave here with the feeling: that was cool! It won’t be an amusement park. The point is to get the conversation flowing at home as well." Rieu devised fifteen scenes, full of digital spectacle, three of which are already completely finished in the warehouse. Two are still under construction. We walk up a staircase in the warehouse, the entrance to the Experience. Wow, two entire walls of images of a (non-existent) South Limburg village immediately overwhelm you. Suddenly, the images transition into the bombing of Rotterdam. Bomb impacts. Fire explosions. Machine gun salvos. Sirens. Soon the floor will shake too, and debris will come from the ceiling. "All your senses are screaming, 'I have to get out of here!' But the group leader stays put. And so do you", Rieu explains. The lesson: how is it possible to have so much trust in someone you have only known for ten minutes? Next, we pass through a bunker to a realistically recreated alleyway with a mini-theater, where the Deutsche Wochenschau (German Newsweek) is being shown. Original black-and-white footage of a mass speech by Adolf Hitler. A huge shock. Suddenly, the reporter recognizes himself, large on the screen, looking around with a bewildered expression. "Hey, that's me!!" Rieu is very pleased with that shock. "You saw my preview during Memorial Day; you knew what was coming, right? You know me a little, don't you?" Well, apparently not well enough. At that gathering in the town hall in Margraten, children looked in amazement at the footage from a film in which they saw themselves. But the fact that Rieu has now used AI to edit the reporter into the film... It makes an impression. "Your attitude during that speech by Hitler would have meant a one-way trip to a concentration camp," says Rieu. "How do you translate that feeling into the world of a high school student? Do you look away when a classmate is being bullied? Do you join in? Or do you confront the bullies? Do you comfort the victim afterwards?" In every scene, someone from every group of visitors pops up in this way. "That's how you keep the attention. 'Who among us is going to appear in the next scene?' After the nearly hour-long Experience, there has to be a half-hour debriefing."

The Experience was supposed to provide Maastricht with a new educational attraction. That is, until former Mayor Gerd Leers, the founding father of André Rieu's Vrijthof shows, came forward and put Pierre in touch with Mayor Alain Krijnen of Eijsden-Margraten. The latter was impressed by the embryonic Experience Center. "All well and good," said Krijnen, "but this naturally has to be in Margraten, the site of the American cemetery." "Out of the question," responded Pierre Rieu, although he immediately realized the power of the combination in Margraten. He was also apprehensive about the reaction of his volunteers. They surprised him. Unanimously, they said: "Fantastic!" That was a wonderful feeling. Pierre Rieu put his "chauvinistic ego" aside. He is proud of that. "It is not about me. We developed the technology for the Experience with Submedia from Heerlen. Is someone copying it? That is the only thing I am proud of. At least, if it is used in the right way." So, his current Experience under construction is becoming a prototype for the "real" one in Margraten, which, as far as Pierre is concerned, should be ready within five years. The municipality of Eijsden- Margraten is in charge of that multi-million project. Funders can already see here what to expect. Rieu realizes that he will still have to deal with plenty of 'shit'. After the first publications about the Experience, comments appeared on social media such as, "Do those vultures have to profit from the Second World War now too?" He doesn't want a cent for it. "I am the founding father, I want to continue contributing ideas, but I don't need to be mentioned later. That is absolutely not what it's about for me." Criticism The cheap criticism only made Rieu more steadfast. "Never judge, never reject. Always engage in dialogue. 'Your strong language touches me; I am curious where it comes from.'" He had to learn that. "Where judgment begins, observation ends. Man, I used to get into such heated arguments with my father! Now I say, ‘That’s interesting what you’re saying.’ So help me understand you. And then, possibly, ‘You’re right.’” Pierre also applies this attitude to his father's concerts, the travel agency, and his hotel on the Onze-Lieve- Vrouweplein. "I select the staff myself. They must delve into each guest individually, not settle for standard platitudes. See the individual person. Mindfulness, for years Pierre considered that 'airy-fairy nonsense'. "Until I experienced, I needed it myself. I honestly tell people, 'That remark touches me.' It's not a trick, almost a way of life. I have never been so close to myself as I am now. It makes life so much more pleasant."

To go back to Pierre Rieu page 6, click HERE.

Pierre Rieu and Flo at a war scene in his "Peace Experience" exhibition, currently under construction in Amby, Maastricht, Netherlands in June 2026. © Harry Heuts.

André Rieu's Son Suffered from Working for His Father: "I Went Through Therapists" August 3, 2026 article from NOS TV, Nieuwsuur. Yvonne Roerdink, Reporter Justus Visser, Editor, Nieuwsuur Translated by Diana D. Le Behind every famous performer, artist, or chef stands someone who makes that success possible—unconditionally. In our series 'Out of the Shadows', we put those people in the spotlight. This week: Pierre Rieu. Pierre Rieu, André Rieu’s son, has struggled with his father’s career. He shared this with Nieuwsuur during the 20th anniversary of the iconic summer concerts at the Vrijthof in Maastricht. Starting at the age of nineteen, he played a key role in André Rieu’s career as technical director and later as a concert producer. André Rieu is the Netherlands’ most famous violinist and orchestra conductor. Believing that no one could do it better than his son, Pierre was given an important role in the orchestra at an early age. “I was 19 when I joined the company, and that’s when my parents appointed me as technical director,” he says. A Challenging Time One of Pierre’s most important tasks is protecting his father. “Not just physically, by literally keeping people away from him. In business matters, too, I’ve always tried to shield him as much as possible from anything that isn’t related to music.” Taking on a fatherly role for his own father has taken a heavy toll on Pierre. “Young children aren’t supposed to have to take care of their parents. And that’s exactly what I’ve done.” André Rieu acknowledges this division of labor. “Making things big is my job. But being sensible—that’s Pierre’s job.” Pierre: “There was no one who could do it better than me. What my father really meant by that was: 'There’s no one I trust more than Pierre.' That weighed heavily on me: okay, so apparently, I can do this.” "My father works incredibly hard himself, so it’s almost a given that you’ll do the same when you work with him. It’s not a requirement, but the dynamic is such that if you project that attitude, you get it back in return." Pierre was given a major responsibility as a director at a young age. It was a tough time. For example, he dropped out of law school. Because of the responsibility, he struggled with mental health issues. “I really had to work through that. I went through a lot of therapists.” The Drive to Prove Ourselves During those difficult years, Pierre also sees how he and his father eventually reconnected with their passion. “We both had to find our own way back to our roots—me to the business and him to music. We’ve talked a lot about that, and we’re both really enjoying ourselves again right now. We also often tell each other that we’re doing really well. What we’re doing here is truly extraordinary.” Will the work ever end? Pierre doesn’t expect his father to stop anytime soon. He believes his father’s intense drive to prove himself stems from his childhood. “He was belittled so much by his parents as a child.” When André Rieu graduated from the conservatory, his mother reportedly told him, “In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.” Pierre thinks experiences like that still drive his father forward.

Video from Dutch TV by NOS/Nieuwsuur, from the series “Out of the shadows”. Duration: 6,50 minutes. Transcript by Ineke. It is the 20th edition of the André Rieu concerts at the Vrijthof. During these days, his son Pierre ensures that André’s VIP guests want for nothing. Before the show, Pierre gives a tour of his father’s castle. Welcome. Can I have a hug? [Followed by words of welcome in English.] NU: You have to be willing to spend over €1,000, but you certainly get your money’s worth: the best concert seats and a selfie with—arguably—the second most popular person in Maastricht today. Guest: You really need to come back with a photo featuring André Rieu, but this is great too. PR: Okay, enjoy it. Guest: You are just... yes, perhaps even more important... Yes... PR: Say that for the camera... Oh, no, NU to guest: Is this your first time? No, I’ve been here many times. How many times? I’ve lost count. But I come to the Vrijthof every year. PR: Lovely, thanks for coming. May we ask you something? Your father really ought to come to England sometime. (Note Ineke: huh ???) NU: André Rieu is not just an artist but also a multi-million-euro enterprise with global success, featuring merchandise ranging from just about anything you can imagine. PR: I don't think we have underwear, but apart from that, we have pretty much everything else. That immense popularity means there are constantly people who want something from his father. “If we’re interested… If you write it down, we’ll get in touch…” One of Pierre’s most important tasks is protecting his father. PR: Yes, I’ve been doing that for a long time. And not just literally—trying to keep people away from him when the timing isn’t right—but especially professionally, shielding him from questions that have nothing to do with music. NU: Usually, it’s the other way around: a father protecting his son. PR: Yes, that’s called… Do you know the term *parentification*? Ha. Ha. NU: That’s not always considered a good thing in psychology. PR: No, certainly not. And I think it definitely applied in my case. But it all happened out of love. They never had any malicious intent in giving me so much responsibility at a young age. It just evolved that way. But it did have an impact on my life. Young children shouldn't have to look after their parents; I’m certain of that. NU: But that is what you did. PR: Yes, that is what I did, yes. NU: The square is slowly filling up, and standing next to me is Pierre—the son of…. Hi, how are you doing—but more importantly, how are your father's nerves? PR: You’d have to ask him, but I think I can gauge it pretty well: they’re racing through his body right now. NU: Yeah? Thanks for the conversation; enjoy the concert, we’re going to really enjoy this now too. PR: You heard the instruction in your earpiece to wrap up the conversation. Yeah, I know how it works. Enjoy. André Rieu’s success seems like a given, but times weren't always golden. Just as Pierre was starting his studies, his father’s company was on the verge of bankruptcy. Pierre felt he had no choice. He dropped out of his studies to help his parents. PR: I had a wonderful childhood—truly wonderful. But after that, it became... Well, when you’re that young and have so much responsibility thrust upon you, it’s tough. I was 19—basically still a child. I remember sitting alone in my hotel room in New York, planning a tour we were going to do there. All by myself, and I was homesick. I really wanted to call my mother, but I couldn't get through to her at that moment. I was in a total panic. NU: And lonely. PR: Yes, I felt very lonely then. It was only much later that Pierre realized the impact of his father’s dream on him. PR: I started working on it right away. I’ve been through a lot of therapists! Ha, ha. PR: We’re going backstage for a moment. A sneak peek. NU: Was it never your dream to stand on stage yourself? PR: No. NU: Sometimes it seems like you want to prove yourselves even more and more. Is there ever a point where it’s enough? PR: No, never. Especially not for him. As a child, he was constantly belittled by his parents. After his conservatory final exam, he asked his mother: "What did you think of it?" Her answer was: “In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.” To be sent out into the world with that—with an upbringing like that... He is still trying to prove himself; I’m certain of it! PR (prior to the concert in the Theater): Hi Dad—and to the interviewer: are you keeping a bit of distance? Yes, right there is fine. NU: Question for André: Could it be this big without Pierre? AR: In any case, he made sure we got something out of it. NU: Financially? AR: Yes, because when you say "big," that’s my department, but being sensible—that’s his department. In front of the Theatre-steps: For Dad, this is a kind of recharging moment. He does it here to get a feel for the audience beforehand. Fans: Hanne (from Germany): It’s fantastic to be back here. I’m going to attend 11 of the 12 concerts this year. (Liz and Edwina): We come from Australia, she (Anna) from Malta, and they (Sally and Judy) from the UK. NU: Do you like André, or do you love him? We looove André, we love him! Wonderful, fantastic! NU: Why do these people keep coming back here? PR: It’s about the memories you build together. I find it actually moves me, too. NU: Why does it move you? PR: Well, it really is incredibly special that people want to celebrate a special family occasion with Dad and his orchestra, and this whole experience, here in Maastricht. As I said at the start: it’s truly special. That’s exactly how I feel about it