André Rieu, the classical music rockstar with millions of followers: "I'm a normal guy"

In Vrijthof, the largest square in Maastricht, someone has taped a handwritten note to a lamppost that reads, "André Rieu is unne wikser" ("André Rieu is a wizard" in Limburgish, the regional language). Just a few meters away, his photo appears on the front page of a local restaurant's menu. It's October, but his concerts in July are already being advertised. As per tradition, next summer violinist and conductor André Rieu (born in Maastricht, 1949) will perform with his orchestra at this location, in front of thousands of people for twelve consecutive nights, for which there is already a waiting list. It's an event of such magnitude in this Dutch city that it even has its own puzzle in Maastricht's souvenir shops. But you don't have to go far to discover what makes this musician so unique: on January 26 and 27, he will perform at the Martín Carpena Sports Palace in Málaga. One of these dates is almost sold out.

"Everyone knows me, yes, but that's okay. Yesterday I went to the store to buy onions because I was making tomato soup, so I'm a normal guy," André Rieu assures. He says this sitting in one of the rooms of his castle in Maastricht, at the foot of the River Meuse, where he lives with his family and where his company, a musical company with 130 people on the payroll, is based. "And there are even more who are freelance," he clarifies. With his orchestra, the Johann Strauss, he has created a unique style where waltzes and opera arias mix with soundtracks, songs from famous musicals, and pop 'greatest hits'.

From Strauss's 'Blue Danube' and Shostakovich's 'Symphony No. 2' to 'La Macarena' by Los del Río and 'I Will Survive' by Gloria Gaynor, he transitions effortlessly, despite also making leaps on stage. All performed with his over 300-year-old Stradivarius violin and with a Viennese waltz aura in the rhythm and aesthetics. Every venue he visits transforms into a palatial hall with elaborate decorations, giant screens, and a light show. The result is impressive and thrilling. The men in his orchestra and choir wear tailcoats, and the women wear flamboyant and colorful long dresses that André Rieu himself designs. "When you go to see classical music, you see fantastic orchestras but all are black. They seem like they are dead. I love to see beautiful things. The light, the colors, the flowers. Why not?" he wonders.

With this approach and his undeniable charisma, Andre Rieu attracts over 700,000 spectators a year, has 20 million followers on social media (Facebook, Instagram, YouTube), more than two million monthly listeners on Spotify, and has sold around 40 million records. His next album, 'Thank You, Johann Strauss!', will be released on November 7th for 35 euros.

And he is absolutely universal. Just take a look at the many videos circulating on the internet of his concerts—some surpassing the incredible mark of 200 million views—featuring young and old, couples in love, and groups of friends. "They like to come because they are moved (...) I want to make you cry, laugh, and dance. We don't travel the world to show how good we are. No, we want to spend a beautiful evening together," he argues. And the images of his performances attest to his words.

–With so many applauses and followers, do you feel like a rock star?

–I don't know what it's like to be a rock star. I am myself. Maybe you should ask the rock star, 'Have you ever felt like André Rieu?'

But beyond the joke, he is very aware of the phenomenon his brand represents. If Robbie Williams gave a concert in the Lithuanian city of Kaunas on his last European tour, he will give two. In Madrid, he will perform at the Movistar Arena, in Valencia he will inaugurate the Roig Arena, in Barcelona he will go through the Palau Sant Jordi, and he will do two nights at the Carpena in Málaga, venues normally reserved for the big names in rock and pop. And for André Rieu. "It happens. Look. I'm here."

How does he explain it? "I think people like to be happy and forget everything. Yes. There's a lot of crap in the world." His concerts, he says, are a disconnection from reality. He regrets that today it seems that only the "right or left" exists. "That's not right. My music brings people together. I don't ask if you are Catholic, right-wing, left-wing, or whatever. Sit together and enjoy." He is concerned about the global situation, but maintains a positive attitude. "We should never abandon the word hope. It gives you energy to keep going."

The violinist advocates for music free of prejudices ("I don't have them, but the classics do") that connects with the general public and does not understand those who criticize that a symphony can tackle any type of repertoire. "I play the music that touches my heart. It doesn't matter what it is as long as I feel 'ah, that's good'," he explains. 'Can't Help Falling in You', 'Lonely Shepherd', 'Edelweiss', 'Voilà', the intermezzo from 'Cavalleria Rusticana'... Everything fits in his violin. Who knows if he might also dare to try reggaeton someday. When asked about it, he confesses he is unfamiliar with the genre and immediately looks up a song on his mobile phone. "Is this the type of music? I love it. But my concert, in the end, is like sex, you know? I build a program, I build it, I build it, and then boom! There's the explosion. So I won't start with this," he argues, laughing. But he never reveals his repertoire. "People don't know what I'm going to play, but they come because they know they will have an unforgettable night."

He has found the key to success in a genre considered niche. But the formula is inimitable. "I think it's my character. I was born on a Sunday. I have a cheerful character. I like humor, I like to laugh, and I like contact with people. I like to look you in the eyes, and that's what I do on stage," he asserts.

Behind his project, there is "a lot of energy, a lot of discipline, and many dreams." Some almost led him to ruin, like when in 2008 he set out to make a replica of the Schönbrunn Palace in Vienna for his concerts. "It was stupid. It was too big, not necessary." But thinking big is what changed his life. He says he founded his orchestra because he "was not happy" in a "normal symphony." "My colleagues only talked about unions and more money, whether it's too cold or too hot. Nobody was really making music," he claims. It was his wife Marjorie who gave him the push to dare to change. "She told me 'I know you have a dream, so follow it and I will earn the money'. That's what she did, and I had time to form my own orchestra. At first, we were twelve, now we are 80," he details with pride.

When he started, he didn't have "much money" to offer them, but he promised them "to travel the world." And he still keeps his promise today. In the coming months, he will go to the United Arab Emirates, Germany, Romania, Austria, Slovakia, Croatia, Slovenia, Hungary... But he always returns to the same place, his hometown of Maastricht.

A fan of Tintin's adventures, he always wanted to have a French castle like the one in Hergé's drawings. "It was much bigger than this one. But here in Maastricht, there is no French castle. There is only one castle." And it is this one where he receives us, Huis De Torentjes, the 'house of the little towers' in Dutch, a 16th-century building with a legendary history: it is said that the real D'Artagnan, the musketeer who inspired Dumas, had his last breakfast there before dying in the siege of Maastricht. A sculpture reminds him in the garden. "Of course, I'm glad to have a castle and a Stradivarius. But I'm the same guy as before. I'm not jealous of Elon Musk because he has more money than me. Not at all. I'm happy with what I've done," he concludes.