Marlene Dietrich Interview: It's the Money I Work For! (1965)

(Thanks to the Crees Collection for sharing this interview with Marlene! The article likely dates from August 1965, when Marlene was doing a British concert tour.)

By Clive Hirschhorn

THE atmosphere round the theatre was thick with reverence. Though there were still two hours to go before Marlene Dietrich would emerge from the stage door after her performance that night, already a crowd of admirers had gathered. The doorman remarked to me that he couldn't remember when business had been so good — and his sentiments and awe were echoed by a young girl, who, with a rubber stamp bearing a facsimile of Miss Dietrich’s autograph, banged out the star’s name on dozens of photographs which would later be distributed to the audience. I was duly beckoned and, to the envy of her adoring fans, was escorted to the Number One dressing room where Marlene was waiting for me. She had just finished a matinee and was clad in a dressing-gown. She was tired — and not even the heavy make-up she was wearing could. disguise this fact; or hide the lines on her face or the fatigue in her eyes. La Dietrich, I discovered, was human after all.

GLAMOUR?

Why, at 61, I asked her, did she continue to work so hard? (Her engagement book is full for the next two years.)

“For  the money.” she said flatly.

I looked at her somewhat surprised. “Yes. For the money.” She repeated. “What else for ? ”

She leaned forward and picked up a publicity hand-out which advertised the dates of her future concerts — in Golders Green,  Edinburgh,  Manchester, Liverpool and Bristol.  She had just finished engagements in Brighton and Birmingham.

“Do you think this is glamorous? That this is a great life,  and that I do it for my health?  Well, it isn’t. It's hard work. And who would work if they didn't have to? 

Posters and Dresses

I must say that I've always appreciated this Blonde Venus movie poster, the black-gloved arms obscured against the black background as well as the drapery clinging to the hips cleverly referencing the famous Venus de Milo statue. Certainly, others share my appreciation. Last year, Peter Sachs sued the German Historical Museum of Berlin for his belated father's Blonde Venus poster. After the museum claimed that the poster wasn't in its possession, Sachs sued the museum for a collection of over 4,000 posters that belonged to his father. The most recent news indicates that the court recognizes Sachs as the legal owner, but I haven't seen any updates since last week. If you're interested in the history behind the poster collection, click here. One article was terribly biased toward Sachs, resorting to a kitschy headline seemingly meant to trigger old World War II sentiments--"U.S. Ex-Pilot Named Owner of Gestapo-Looted Poster Collection" (later edited to the less vulgar "Ex-Pilot is Owner of Nazi-Looted Posters, Judge Says").

Although both sides may feel sore about the issue, I do hope that some arrangement is made to keep the exhibited posters in their current displays and also to keep these posters preserved for future displays and research. At the German museum, professionals are handling them. Sachs doesn't even know what he'd do with them.

Interestingly, the British government has also made the news by banning the export of 11 Vionnet dresses, whose bias-cut design won Dietrich's favor according to reports and--if memory serves me correctly--Maria Riva's biography. British cultural bigwigs now vie for time, hoping some wealthy benefactor will purchase the dresses from their anonymous private owner. Could Britain's actions set a precedent for the state-owned German museum to follow?