Star light, star bright, which star will shine tonight? As a host of couples-from Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman to Hillary and Bill Clinton-has discovered, there`s not always room for two headliners at center stage.
When a mover and shaker pairs up with a shaker and mover, compromise in a relationship is more complex than divvying up the bills, the laundry and who walks the dog. The spotlight is also an issue: Sharing it, shifting it and sometimes steering clear of it.
In the Clintons` case, Hillary now has a supporting role in a campaign where she once co-starred-despite Patrick Buchanan and Marilyn Quayle`s attempts at the Republican National Convention to edge her back into the spotlight. Downplaying her status as a senior partner in a Little Rock law firm, Hillary has even gone on the record saying she may take a leave from her practice if her husband makes it to the White House. She has also developed a sudden penchant for pastel suits, chocolate-chip cookies and tea parties. The message is clear: No upstaging in this campaign.
Granted, all relationships require a good measure of give-and-take. But with celebrity comes new pressures-ones that can upset the precarious balance in a partnership.
For some achievers, the competitive edge that drove them to the top also has the potential to cause a rift in the relationship.
The politics of marriage
Chris LaPaille, now president of Agenda Communications, a Chicago public policy management firm, admits she had a tough time dealing with a career change that moved her out of the spotlight while her spouse remained basking in its glow.
When Chris met her husband in the mid-`80s, they were arch rivals: Gary LaPaille was (and still is) chief of staff for Michael Madigan, the state`s top Democrat as Speaker of the Illinois House of Representatives. Chris Freveletti was chief of staff for Rep. Lee Daniels, House minority leader.
”It was a joke around Springfield at the time how much Gary and I hated each other,” says Chris. But after she resigned in mid-1987, leaving government to enter the private sector, a romance bloomed. Followed by wedding bells.
But not long after the rice was thrown in March 1988, Gary, who also is leader of the state Democratic Party, headed off to legislative sessions. Alone. ”It was difficult for me to hear him talk about what was going on in Springfield,” recalls Chris. ”I wasn`t part of the decision-making process anymore; I was now an outsider looking in.” Depression set in.
”It got to the point where I didn`t discuss the day`s activities with her,” says Gary.
When Chris realized what was eating at her, she visited a career counselor. ”She helped me realize that much of my success stems from the fact that I have always been a very competitive person. I was used to competing with my husband and now I was no longer in the arena. It wasn`t so much a sense of jealousy I felt as it was a feeling that I had lost,” Chris recounts.
Chris left Jasculca Terman & Assoc., the Chicago public relations company she had been working for, and launched Agenda. Being an entrepreneur allowed her to flex the decision-making muscle she had developed in Springfield and helped bandage any remaining bruises to her ego.
Spouse or rival?
Rivalry in a relationship is not necessarily a problem, says William Nagler, a pyschologist in Bloomfield Hills, Mich., and author of ”The Dirty Half Dozen: Six Radical Rules to Make Relationships Last” (Warner Books, $14.95). ”Rivalry is fun. It`s what games are all about. The problem is winning and losing. You need balance.”
Although few couples invite competition into their homes, it can creep up on the doorstep.
New York film critics Molly Haskell and Andrew Sarris, married for 23 years, found themselves pitted against each other professsionally during the mid-`70s. She was writing movie reviews for New York magazine; he was writing reviews for The Village Voice.
”We didn`t want anyone to say `She`s feeding him, he`s feeding her,`
” says Haskell. ”So during that period (which lasted about two years until Haskell left to work for Vogue magazine), we just avoiding talking about movies.” It didn`t hurt the marriage, but it wasn`t fun either, Haskell says. ”One of the great joys of our marriage has been going to movies and exchanging insight.”
Although they have independent careers, Sarris and Haskell have more or less shared the spotlight during their marriage, frequently doing interviews and lectures together. There was one occasion, however, when Haskell preferred to go solo: the release of her second book ”Love and Other Infectious Diseases” (William Morrow Co., $18.95), which chronicles Sarris` battle with CMV (cytomegalovirus), a rare virus. ”Andrew was brought into the limelight in a different way-as a subject,” says Haskell. ”Yet I thought of it as my book and didn`t want this to turn into a Molly and Andy act.” With only a couple of exceptions, Haskell did interviews sans Sarris.
His feathers remained unruffled. ”It didn`t bother me in the slightest,” he says.
Waxing on, Sarris thinks the public is often out to get couples who each have some claim to fame. ”People look for signs that we`re at each other`s throat,” he says. ”They don`t believe two people in the same field can get along. ”
How to play second fiddle
”Couple rivalry” isn`t relegated to the workplace. Competition often creeps into the social arena, particularly when one heavy-hitter has a career that`s more glamorous or more powerful.
When Desiree Rogers was working for AT&T, people at parties were far more interested in getting stock tips from her husband, John Rogers Jr., president of Ariel Capital Management, a $1.5 million money management firm in Chicago. But now that Desiree heads up the Illinois State Lottery, the attention is on her. ”Wherever we go, people want to talk about the lottery,” she sighs.
John admits that playing second banana is a familiar role, now. But he doesn`t mind. ”When she got the job, I think I knew better than she in terms of what to expect. Besides, I don`t really need to be in the spotlight.”
Kiefer, the dwarf
But that isn`t the case with all mates. And, unfortunately, prestige and attention aren`t always parceled out evenly.
Hollywood is a hotbed of breakups caused by one person wanting more and getting more of the spotlight. Enter the Star-Is-Born syndrome.
John Gray, a psychologist in Mill Valley, Calif., who specializes in relationship problems, points to the Julia Roberts-Kiefer Sutherland split, speculating that one career overshadowing the other could have been a strong factor. ”Her fame exceeded his,” says Gray. ”He was dwarfed.”
In addition to that, men and women respond differently to success, according to Gray, author of ”Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus”
(HarperCollins Publishers, $20).
”Men have a greater need to be admired, acknowledged and appreciated whereas women need to feel understood,” says Gray. ”If a woman is achieving new levels of success, she needs a sounding board to discuss the problems of success and the new pressures on her. Her partner may not be sympathetic because, for him, the mere fact of achieving success is enough. Men tend to become more quarrelsome if not getting enough of the limelight.”
No more `Mr. George`
Sometimes a tip in the celebrity scales is a welcome relief, says New York fashion designer Jennifer George.
She met her husband, singer-songwriter Marc Cohn (”Walking in Memphis”) on a blind date in college. After graduation, George built a reputation quickly as an up-and-comer in New York`s fashion world, while Cohn struggled on the music scene. ”People in the fashion industry would say `Now what does your husband do?` ” says 33-year-old George. ”Once when I told a fabric vendor that Marc was a musician, the man wanted to know if he did bar mitzvahs.” Cohn hit a home run last year with his album from Atlantic Records followed by a Grammy for best new artist in February. No one calls Cohn ”Mr. George” anymore.
The only drawback, George says, is that the shift happened so fast.
”Suddenly, all anyone wanted to talk about to me was Marc,” she says.
”Could they get autographs, could they get pictures, what were the Grammys like? It became a little annoying because it would take 20 minutes to get down to business with people.”
The Tiger woman
For Chicago architect Margaret McCurry, working to get out of the shadow of her husband/partner, Stanley Tigerman, has long been a challenge.
”Some of it`s catching up-Stanley has been in the industry 12 years longer,” says 49-year-old McCurry, who admits she wouldn`t mind getting more of the recognition that`s her due.
Known for his gruff, off-the-cuff comments and equally outspoken work, 61-year-old Tigerman has long been a media darling. Does this irk McCurry?
”No,” she says, reflecting on their 13-year marriage. ”Stanley is a colorful character. It`s one of the reasons I enjoy being around him. Life is never boring with him.”
What can rankle, however, is when the credit falls on the wrong partner at Tigerman McCurry Architects. Tigerman says there is a public misconception that he is the architect; McCurry does interiors.
In fact, it was McCurry`s initial design that won the firm the contract in 1988 for the Chicago Bar Association building in the South Loop and which has since won Tigerman McCurry Architects accolades from design critics. And McCurry had a larger hand in the couple`s award-winning country home in Michigan.
Other slights: Last fall in a Midway Airlines magazine article about Tigerman, Margaret McCurry was rechristened ”Marilyn McCully.” Oh yes, she was also called ”a pretty blond.”
”You do gnash your teeth,” admits McCurry. At Tigerman? ”No, I only take him to task if I feel he has been negligent in presenting the credits.” Shine that light
Sometimes one partner`s prominence can lead to conflicts and controversy for the other, as Chris La Paille has discovered.
”We have the Bill and Hillary problem,” says Chris, who has fielded snipes that her firm gets business via husband Gary`s connections. And since he was named head of the Illinois Democratic Party in 1990, the open fire is getting thicker.
”There`s a public perception that he can help me,” says Chris. ”The truth of the matter is that I end up losing business. Some potential clients fear the proximity to someone who`s a partisan insider. People have even told me that they don`t want to deal with the controversy (of being Gary LaPaille`s wife).”
Jay Levine, weekend anchorman on WBBM-TV, Channel 2, has been married for three years to his broadcast competitor Mary Ann Childers.
Off-camera, Levine is recognized in public more often because, he says, he`s been on the air in Chicago longer. On-camera, Childers gets more of the glory-since her station has overall higher news ratings.
Still, Levine paints a more optimistic picture of spotlight sharing:
”Very rarely do you see a situation where the success of one spouse has to be at the expense of the other.
”First of all, I`m proud of her and what she`s accomplished,” says Levine. ”Secondly, I don`t mind (when the limelight is on her). We live our lives under the microscope. Any chance I get to avoid the spotlight when not working is welcome.”
But if someone wants the limelight and is not getting it, things can get sticky, says psychologist Nagler.
”Wanting the spotlight is the desire for adulation, recognition from the world that I`m a great guy or gal,” he says. ”The spotlight isn`t necessarily competitive unless one person wants more of it.”
