In April of 1993, my agent sent me a scene for an
audition for a new on-air series called Picket Fences. I read the scene. It was well written with a delightful character of a woman Mayor. I was
excited. You really celebrate good writing when you get it. Good actors
become excellent at turning "sow's ears into silk purses" with their
material. Actors "sense" rhythms and phrases that are "in flow" with the
character. Actors and writers should be good partners.
I auditioned for Michael Pressman , who was one of the producers, and a director
on the show. It went well. Auditioning is a very sensitive thing. You can
have great talent, work hard on an audition, drive to the audition
literally on fire, go into the audition, and the fire went out
mysteriously somewhere between waiting to go in, and the actual audition. Other times, all moments converge perfectly and you know you were great,
and still you might not be what they are looking for. As I was driving
home from the reading for Picket Fences, I knew I had given one of those
auditions where I was great, and I knew they felt the same. That is
certainly what you hope for. I felt the excitement of having done my best. I find I am usually more concerned about my evaluation of how I did in an
audition, than if I actually got the job. I know I can always work
to improve what I do; I know I can't control what they do.
Later that evening, my agent called and told me they were "blown away"
by my work. However... they did not feel I was well-known enough. Even
though I was wonderful, they wanted to explore other female talent that
would have bigger names. They would "let me know". I felt like I had been
punched. Once again, it was out of my control. What could I do
about my name? Nothing.
Four weeks later, out of
the blue, I was called to come in and audition once
again. They had not found their bigger "name". This audition was not quite as magical. I felt it was
good, but not as good as the time before. They again
said, they would be continuing their search for a name. This was a painful process. I really wanted to play Mayor
Harris. I knew I could "soar" in this role.
On August fifth, my agent called and asked if I
was sitting down. "You start work on Picket
Fences in three weeks. They love you. You were the
best. Everyone else they auditioned wanted too much money
and weren't as talented in the role as you". I was
stunned. I didn't say much but, "thank you". This had come at a time when I was financially strained
and was considering living with my mother because I might
not be able to pay my rent. I began working on Picket
Fences. I sunk my creative spirit into this colorful
character with all my passion and love of acting. "She" inspired me because she was not one
dimensional. She was strong but fragile, passionate,
opinionated, sexual, beautiful and not at all afraid to
stomp on toes to get her way. In other words, Rachel Harris was
great fun to play.
I fell in love with everyone and
everything about this show. How could I not? The writing,
the production, the actors and the crew were extremely
talented and also very nice. Every ten days a script
would arrive written by David Kelley. I never read these
scripts silently. I would find myself spontaneously
exclaiming, "Oh, my God!" , as I would discover
what my character would be up to next. He wrote and
created brilliant, human and hilarious situations for all
the characters in Rome, Wisconsin in practically perfect
scripts. David Kelley remains one of my favorite talents
in our industry. I did 22 shows on Picket Fences
as Mayor Rachel Harris. On Sept 10, 1995, I won an Emmy
for Best Supporting Actress in a Dramatic Series.