Maria Riva, the renowned actress and author, passed away at the age of 100 in Gila, New Mexico, on Wednesday. As the sole child of the iconic screen siren Marlene Dietrich—a woman celebrated for her audacious, androgynous, and often provocative presence in film and cabaret—Maria Riva had a unique and complex life. Her groundbreaking biography of her mother, released in 1993 just a year after Dietrich’s death, candidly unveiled the profound personal sacrifices made in the shadow of such immense fame.
Her son, Peter, confirmed her passing, noting she had resided at his home for the past eighteen months.
Born in Berlin, Ms. Riva’s early life was shaped by her mother’s burgeoning career. Her father, Rudolph Sieber, a charismatic assistant director, first spotted Dietrich as an extra and eventually married her in 1923. As Dietrich’s star ascended, young Maria spent much of her formative years amidst the bustling backlots of Hollywood’s Paramount Pictures.
Formal schooling was not part of Dietrich’s plan for her daughter. Believing English to be crude and Americans even more so, Dietrich insisted "The Child"—her preferred term for Maria—remain constantly by her side, serving as both handmaiden and personal assistant.
Ironically, it was Josef von Sternberg—the Austrian-born director, Dietrich’s mentor and lover who had launched her into international stardom and secured her Hollywood contract with "The Blue Angel" (1930)—who introduced Ms. Riva to essential American terminology like "soundstage," "makeup," and "wardrobe department." Their collaboration on "The Blue Angel" marked the first of seven films they made together.
Maria quickly became adept at managing her mother’s elaborate costumes and stage props, diligently signing publicity photos, and maintaining silence on film sets. Dietrich’s personal costume designer even fashioned a special uniform for Maria and bestowed upon her the official title: “attendant to Miss Marlene.” For a significant period, Maria believed her full name was "Maria Daughter of Marlene Dietrich" and remained consistently uncertain of her true age, a detail her mother frequently altered by subtracting years from her own.

Indeed, family life was far from ordinary. Mr. Sieber, residing in Paris, would occasionally visit, bringing along his timid Russian mistress, Tami. During these visits, he managed Dietrich’s finances, oversaw Maria’s upbringing, and meticulously cataloged his wife’s extensive correspondence. These letters, largely from Dietrich’s many paramours, arrived in abundance and were often read aloud by Dietrich herself. Maria cherished these rare visits, as Tami—the true nurturing presence in the unconventional household—would dote on her, acting as both nanny and housekeeper.
“Dietrich reigned supreme,” Ms. Riva recounted in a 1994 interview. “My father served as her majordomo, her lovers were her courtiers, and I was perpetually the lady-in-waiting. I found nothing unusual in this arrangement, having no other reality to compare it with.”
The absence of formal schooling meant Maria had no friends her own age. Her closest confidants were a select few of Dietrich’s lovers—among them, the English actor Brian Aherne, a particular favorite who secretly provided her with Shakespeare plays—and her ever-present bodyguards, assigned after a kidnapping threat emerged following the Lindbergh baby’s murder. One bodyguard famously gifted her a pet frog.
At around twelve years old, Maria experienced her first interaction with children her age at Judy Garland’s birthday party. Overwhelmed, she wondered what typical children did. She and Judy found solace on the porch, bonding over their equally peculiar, sheltered upbringings, while the other guests, strangers to Judy, effortlessly navigated adolescent slang and a baffling game called "spin the bottle."

Throughout Maria’s childhood, until her teenage years, her mother’s numerous male and female companions would discreetly depart before dawn, maintaining the elaborate pretense that they were merely close friends to "The Child." This early circle included figures such as Josef von Sternberg, Maurice Chevalier, Gary Cooper, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., and the poet and playwright Mercedes de Acosta, herself famously a lover of Greta Garbo.
These companions often reappeared in the mornings, impeccably dressed, for breakfast. Dietrich approached her culinary pursuits with the same fervent enthusiasm as her nocturnal escapades. However, Maria observed that this charade eventually became taxing for everyone involved, as her mother increasingly began housing her with governesses in various hotels and rented homes.
Dietrich’s romantic liaisons were legendary, spanning decades and a diverse cast from General George S. Patton to Colette and Adlai Stevenson. During one period in London, Maria documented a typical day that might feature Michael Arlen for breakfast, Christopher Fry for lunch, Kenneth Tynan for tea, and "a sexy new Swedish blonde for supper."
John Wayne, who co-starred with Dietrich in three films during the early 1940s, proved an exception to her allure, seemingly unaffected by her charisma. Years later, when Maria Riva inquired why he hadn’t succumbed to her mother’s charms, Wayne simply replied, "Never liked being part of a stable."
Despite her numerous romantic pursuits, Dietrich held a peculiar aversion to sexual intercourse itself, particularly with men. She openly admitted to her daughter a preference for fellatio, or, even more, for impotent men, explaining, “They are nice. You can sleep and it’s cozy.”

Maria Riva’s nights were anything but peaceful. For over a year, she endured repeated sexual abuse from a governess-companion. This trauma led her into teenage alcoholism and suicidal ideation. She entered a brief marriage in her late teens.
By the age of 20, Ms. Riva was divorced, still battling severe alcoholism, and drifting through San Francisco. Here, she found employment with a compassionate drag performer, her mother at the time serving with General Patton’s First Army in Europe. Maria excelled in her role, remarking, “A trained-by-Dietrich dresser can function very nicely as handmaiden to a female impersonator of Sophie Tucker.” Her employer offered her care, food, and shelter during a period when she subsisted on ketchup and bourbon. Yet, despite this support, she began accumulating sleeping pills, her suicidal thoughts persisting.
However, a turning point arrived when a friend introduced her to Karen Horney’s seminal work, "The Neurotic Personality of Our Time." This book by the German psychoanalyst, a prominent anti-Freudian, delved into the societal roots of emotional distress, and Maria credits it with saving her life.
“I saw myself in its pages,” she confessed to The Chicago Tribune in 1993, finding profound solace in its insights.
Maria Riva embarked on a new chapter, achieving sobriety and relocating to New York City, where she committed herself diligently to an acting career. She toured Europe with a U.S.O. company until the war’s conclusion, then returned to New York. It was at Fordham University, while directing a play alongside producer Albert McCleery, that she met William Riva, a set designer. Their connection blossomed into love, and they married in 1947.
Despite Dietrich’s disapproval of the union, she remained a formidable presence in the Riva household. After the birth of Maria and William’s first child, Michael, in 1948, Dietrich’s dictatorial nature extended even to the nursery. When Life magazine subsequently featured Dietrich on its cover that August, branding her “The Most Glamorous Grandmother,” she expressed considerable annoyance. “It automatically makes my age a subject for great discussion,” she declared to The New York Times 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 life in the shadow of such a public figure, Ms. Riva later mused, “What is it like, to have a mother no one knows? Must be nice.”

Maria Elizabeth Sieber’s official birth date was December 13, 1924, in Berlin. However, she only discovered her true age after her father’s death in 1976, upon finding her birth certificate among his personal documents. Rudolf Sieber and Marlene Dietrich, notably, never formally divorced.
Maria did experience a brief period of conventional schooling at a Swiss finishing school. Yet, true to form, Dietrich incessantly called her daughter, disrupting exams and hockey games, clearly unable to cope with the absence of her indispensable "handmaiden." Later, Maria further honed her craft by studying acting at director Max Reinhardt’s renowned workshop in Hollywood.
Following her marriage, Ms. Riva embarked on a prolific career as a television actress, signing with CBS and appearing in over 500 teleplays and numerous commercials. She also graced the stage in various theatrical productions. However, with the birth of her fourth son, David, in 1961, she retired from acting to dedicate herself to her family. She maintained her commitment to volunteer work, notably participating in telethons for cerebral palsy, an endeavor she began at the encouragement of Yul Brynner, another of Dietrich’s past lovers. Furthermore, she tirelessly produced her mother’s cabaret acts for as long as Dietrich was physically able to perform.

Maria Riva is survived by her sons Peter, Paul, and David, along with eight grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. Her husband, William Riva, passed away in 1999, and their son Michael died in 2012.
Marlene Dietrich’s final years were spent in isolation within a squalid Paris apartment, a situation not born of poverty or neglect. She famously shunned visitors and, hampered by various ailments, neglected personal hygiene, often using household items as makeshift bedpans. Her days were consumed by phone calls with adoring fans and former lovers, sustained by a potent cocktail of pills, alcohol, and dubious home remedies, all in a desperate attempt to maintain her carefully constructed legend.
In 1993, one year after Dietrich’s death at 90, Ms. Riva released her long-awaited book, “Marlene Dietrich.” The biography garnered widespread critical acclaim and significant public attention.
Molly Haskell, in her review for The Times, hailed it as “the ultimate act of demystification, a startling and riveting work.”
“I believe those of us who live in the glare of great fame must recognize it as a survival mechanism, and many of us find it deeply undesirable,” Ms. Riva confided to Diane Sawyer in a 1993 television interview. She asserted that writing the book was an absolute necessity.
“Power must not be allowed to triumph indefinitely,” Ms. Riva stated, reflecting on her childhood servitude. “It must not be excused, regardless of its actions, simply because it is beautiful, celebrated, or influential.”