I just finished My Architect: A Son’s Journey, a documentary about Louis Khan by his son Nathaniel.  I knew nothing about Louis Kahn’s personal life and was taken aback by the movie’s opening: the son is searching for his name in Kahn’s obituary but does not find any mention of himself.

Nathaniel was the one of two children fathered by Louis Kahn by two different women while married to his first (and only) wife.  The film follows Nathaniel as he works through this legacy, but I wonder about the other woman in the story, Kahn’s wife. Did she care that her husband had two other families within miles of her home? Did she know? Would it have made a difference?

The son said that Ethel, the first wife, wouldn’t grant Kahn a divorce. Convenient rationalization for Kahn, but what is the place in life for loyalty and fidelity? Do those qualities matter when you are “great”? I studied and admired Kahn’s buildings for years.  I grew up next to the Kimball Art Museum in Fort Worth.  Kahn was a genius and his buildings are beautiful in form and well executed for function. But at what price does greatness justify infidelity?

I think about John F. Kennedy and the many women who were not Jacqueline.  Bill Clinton and the constant stream of lady friends.  One shouldn’t speculate on the private lives of others, and it is impossible to know what goes on between two people, but for my generation and for those of us who will excel, I hope for more. I hope that a marriage of loyalty and fidelity can coexist with greatness.

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I watched the Barbara Walters interview of President-elect and Mrs. Obama.  The two had a wonderful banter and clear partnership. In a time when we fight over what defines marriage and who can have the right to marry, I am pleased that this is the couple will move into the White House. I hope that Obama hits the right notes for both greatness and fidelity.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR —

I've traveled to India and watched the Hindus wake up Mother Ganges. I lived in Italy during September 11th when the Italians draped the Ponte Vecchio with an American flag, and I watched the Italians procrastinate until December 31st to transition from the Lire to the Euro. Tourists have pushed me off the sidewalk on 5th Avenue, and I have been laid off twice in one year. I've worked in the White House Social Office and welcomed guests on behalf of the President. I've been molested on the subway on my way to work but then been rescued by an undercover New York City police officer. I've eaten bagels in the Gehry-designed Conde Nast cafeteria and produced quarter of a million dollar photoshoots for Vogue. I've served food to the homeless in New York and delivered meals to the housebound in DC. I've run a half-marathon in Birmingham and been encouraged to 'keep up the good work' by a white-haired old man as he hauled by. I've toured the Three Gorges in China before the dam raised the water level and been told by a Beijing man that it is the Southern Chinese who eat 'little brown spotted dogs'. I've danced in the Orangerie at Versailles to Jimmy Buffett beneath a statue of Louis XIV singing 'Here Comes the Sun'. I've watched President Bush put his hand on Putin's shoulder and call him 'my good friend.' I've watched Russian tanks roll into Georgia on CNN. I've sent a note of condolence to the mother of a friend my age who died in September of a rare neurological disease. I am a great admirer of etiquette because good manners can transform you into royalty but inconsideration makes tatters from glamour. Manners are not a minefield. They are a 'lets try hard to make this other person more comfortable'. The true secret behind lovely etiquette and flawless entertaining is to make an effort. Yes: effort/strain/brawn/sweat/struggle/learn-the-rules/apply-them, and the energy expended absolutely pays off.

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