Maria Riva, the actress and author, who was the only child of the iconic Marlene Dietrich—a star celebrated for her audacious androgyny and captivating allure—has died at the age of 100 in Gila, N.M. Her death was confirmed by her son, Peter, at whose home she had resided for the past year and a half. A year after her mother’s passing in 1992, Riva published a bombshell biography that candidly explored the profound personal sacrifices born from Dietrich’s immense fame.
Born Maria Sieber in Berlin, Riva’s early life was anything but ordinary. Her father, Rudolph Sieber, a charismatic assistant director, first cast Dietrich as an extra in one of her early film roles, and they married in 1923. As Dietrich’s star ascended, Riva grew up largely amidst the vibrant chaos of Hollywood’s Paramount Pictures backlots. Formal schooling was dismissed by Dietrich, who found English vulgar and Americans equally so. Instead, her daughter, whom she affectionately called ‘The Child,’ was kept constantly by her side, serving as a dedicated handmaiden and personal assistant.
It was Josef von Sternberg, Dietrich’s mentor, lover, and the director who propelled her to international stardom with ‘The Blue Angel’ (1930), who taught young Riva essential American film vocabulary like ‘soundstage’ and ‘wardrobe department.’ Riva quickly became adept at managing her mother’s elaborate costumes and props, expertly stamping autographs on publicity photos, and maintaining a discreet presence on set. Dietrich’s costume designer even created a special uniform for Riva, officially naming her ‘attendant to Miss Marlene.’ For years, Riva believed ‘Maria Daughter of Marlene Dietrich’ was her full name, and her age remained a mystery, shifting often to align with her mother’s perpetually youthful self-image.
The Sieber family dynamic was, to say the least, unconventional. Rudolf Sieber, typically based in Paris, would occasionally visit, bringing his quiet Russian mistress, Tami. He would oversee Dietrich’s finances, Riva’s upbringing, and meticulously archive his wife’s voluminous correspondence—much of which consisted of letters from her many lovers, often read aloud by Dietrich. Riva cherished these visits, as Tami provided a rare source of affection, stepping into the roles of nanny and housekeeper.
In a 1994 interview, Riva observed, ‘Dietrich was the queen. My father was her major-domo, her lovers were her suitors, and I was the lady in waiting. I didn’t think it was strange; I had nothing to compare it to.’ Without conventional schooling, Riva lacked companions her own age. Her closest confidantes were a handful of Dietrich’s less demanding lovers, like the English actor Brian Aherne who secretly supplied her with Shakespeare plays, and her ever-present bodyguards, assigned after a kidnapping threat. One even gifted her a pet frog.
Around the age of 12, Riva attended her first real children’s party—Judy Garland’s birthday. Terrified by the prospect of interacting with other children, she and Judy bonded on the porch, sharing their experiences of strange, confined upbringings. Meanwhile, the other guests, strangers to Judy, effortlessly navigated youthful slang and a mysterious game called spin the bottle.
Until Riva’s teenage years, her mother’s numerous male and female companions would depart before dawn, maintaining the illusion for ‘The Child’ that they were merely good friends. These early years saw a rotating cast of lovers, including Maurice Chevalier, Gary Cooper, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., and the poet Mercedes de Acosta, who also shared a romance with Greta Garbo. These companions often reappeared for breakfast, impeccably dressed. Dietrich, as passionate about her cooking as her nocturnal escapades, eventually began boarding Riva with governesses in hotels and rented homes, suggesting the charade had grown tiresome for all involved.
Dietrich’s sexual exploits were legendary, spanning from Gen. George S. Patton to Colette to Adlai Stevenson, a list that only grew longer with the decades. Riva recounted a period in London where Michael Arlen might be at breakfast, Christopher Fry at lunch, Kenneth Tynan for tea, and ‘a sexy new Swedish blonde to supper.’ John Wayne, who co-starred with Dietrich in three films in the early 1940s, was an anomaly, seemingly immune to her allure. Years later, when Riva asked him why, he simply replied, ‘Never liked being part of a stable.’ Interestingly, Dietrich herself wasn’t fond of traditional intimacy with men, preferring oral sex or, even better, impotent partners. ‘They are nice,’ she confided to her daughter. ‘You can sleep and it’s cozy.’
Riva’s own nights were far from cozy. For over a year, a governess-companion repeatedly assaulted her. As a teenager, Riva spiraled into alcoholism and suicidal ideations, eventually entering a brief marriage in her late teens. By age 20, divorced, still heavily drinking, and adrift in San Francisco, she found work with a compassionate drag performer. She noted her suitability for the role: ‘A trained-by-Dietrich dresser can function very nicely as handmaiden to a female impersonator of Sophie Tucker.’ Her employer provided care, food, and shelter while Riva, previously subsisting on ketchup and bourbon, secretly hoarded sleeping pills, her suicidal thoughts persisting.
However, a friend’s gift of Karen Horney’s groundbreaking book, ‘The Neurotic Personality of Our Time,’ which explored the social roots of emotional distress, became a turning point. Riva asserted that the anti-Freudian psychoanalyst’s work saved her life. ‘I found myself in it,’ she told The Chicago Tribune in 1993, feeling less isolated after reading it. Riva achieved sobriety, relocated to New York City, and dedicated herself to an acting career. She toured Europe with a U.S.O. company until the war’s end, then returned to New York, where she met set designer William Riva while directing a play at Fordham University. They fell in love and married in 1947.
Despite Dietrich’s disapproval of the marriage, her presence in the Riva household remained overwhelming, particularly in the nursery after the birth of their first child, Michael, in 1948. When Life magazine featured Dietrich on its cover that August, declaring her ‘The Most Glamorous Grandmother,’ she was irritated. ‘It automatically makes my age a subject for great discussion,’ she remarked in 1952. ‘That is ridiculous. It is quite common to have grandchildren at 35.’ She was, in fact, 51 at the time. Reflecting on her unique upbringing, Riva later wrote, ‘What is it like, to have a mother no one knows? Must be nice.’
Maria Elizabeth Sieber was born in Berlin on December 13, 1924. It wasn’t until her father’s death in 1976, when she discovered her birth certificate among his documents, that she truly learned her age. (Her parents, Rudolf and Marlene, never divorced). Riva did attend a Swiss finishing school for a few years, but Dietrich’s incessant phone calls, demanding her daughter’s presence and suffering from her ‘handmaiden’s’ absence, often pulled her from exams and hockey games. Riva also honed her acting skills at director Max Reinhardt’s workshop in Hollywood.
After her marriage, Riva became a prolific television actress, signing with CBS and appearing in over 500 teleplays and numerous commercials. She also performed in theatrical productions. However, with the birth of her fourth son, David, in 1961, she retired from acting to prioritize her family. She continued her volunteer work with cerebral palsy telethons, an endeavor she began at the encouragement of Yul Brynner (another of Dietrich’s admirers). Riva also produced her mother’s cabaret acts for as long as Dietrich was able to perform.
In addition to Peter, Riva is survived by two other sons, Paul and David, eight grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren. William Riva passed away in 1999, and their son Michael died in 2012.
Dietrich’s final years were spent in isolation in a squalid Paris apartment. This wasn’t due to poverty or neglect; she simply preferred solitude and, weakened by various ailments, was neglectful of hygiene, often using household items as makeshift bedpans. She spent her days on the phone, spinning fantasies and distorting truths for fans and former lovers, tirelessly cultivating her legendary image.
In 1993, a year after Dietrich’s death at 90, Riva published ‘Marlene Dietrich.’ The book, years in the making, garnered widespread critical acclaim and immense public attention. Molly Haskell, reviewing it for The Times, hailed it as ‘the ultimate act of demystification, a startling and riveting work.’ Riva told Diane Sawyer in a 1993 television interview that writing the book was a necessity for her survival. ‘Power must not be allowed to triumph all the time,’ Riva declared, reflecting on her childhood servitude. ‘It mustn’t be forgiven no matter what it does, because it’s beautiful, because it’s famous, because it’s powerful.’