Meet the Carrots: Nathan A. Cooper- Artistic Director

So, where ya from? Nathan Cooper
Boulder, Colorado.

When did you move to Baltimore?
September 18, 2008.

What’s your favorite role you’ve played at Single Carrot Theatre?
Joseph Cornell. Come see Hotel Cassiopeia!

Who do you look up to, as an actor, director, or arts administrator?
Hmm. Wow. Carlos Uriona of Double Edge Theatre because he has a tremendous capacity for warmth, seriousness, and silliness all at the same time.

You like birds a lot. What’s with you and birds?
Well I don’t have a pet, and I would like to have a pet, so this is a good intermediate, low cost, low maintenance way to interact with animals.

Carrots have a reputation for loving food. Can you enlighten the Single Carrot friends and patrons as to what “angry belly” is?
Imagine this. It’s Thanksgiving. You’ve already had three plates of food and suddenly a bunch of people show up with, like, six or seven pies. They pies there on the counter tempting you, and so you say, “Well, is anybody else gonna eat some of this pie? It’s not going to eat itself.” So you do the right thing, and you start eating pie. But nobody helped you because they’ve all had pie at other people’s houses. So suddenly you’re in a conundrum and your only option is to keep eating until it literally hurts to move, to talk, think, sit, breathe. And angry belly has arrived.

Baltimore or Boulder?
Combo. Outdoorsiness and scenic elements of Boulder (mountains) mixed with everything Baltimore has to offer.

So, basically take the Rocky Mountains, and put ’em in the Mid Atlantic?

What  is a hope or dream you have for the future of art in Baltimore City?
More artists with sustainable, affordable space to produce their art.

Challenge: Offer a deal to Single Carrot patrons and friends, right now. Go.
If you send an email to with a picture you took of a grackle and tell me when and where you saw it, I’ll hook you up with a 1/2 price ticket to our summer show, Foot of Water. 

Still want more info on Nathan?  Check out the video below. 

[vimeo 19852646 Nathan Cooper]

A Bathtub and A Spool: a romance fated to be

Sometimes as a designer you might throw something into a show because it just looks good.  There is something about it that scratches that itch, or it just seems right.  Only later do the possibilities unfold.  When they do unfold, there is a great moment of coming together.  A great moment of fate.


Early in the design process for Hotel Cassiopeia the playing space was going to be occupied by cafe tables and chairs.  Yet it was missing that magical spark that Joseph Cornell’s work often captures so effortlessly.   This is where fate extended a hand, and our production team jumped at the opportunity.

First it was a bath tub.  Something about this idea seemed too good to pass up as it tied into Joseph Cornell’s life so well.  There is strong evidence that the most intimate moment of his life may have been taking a bath with one of his personal assistants.  There were a few requirements though.  It had to be a clawfoot tub, have a classic roll rim, made of real cast iron, and a porcelain interior.   What we got was the perfect fit.  From a home in Vienna, Virginia it came to our stage for a new life without the water.  If you haven’t seen Hotel Cassiopeia yet I won’t spoil what happens, but I will say the results are beautiful.

Next it was an old cable spool.  Single Carrot’s love of this object is a relatively new obsession.  It was introduced by Double Edge Theatre to us as a tool for our physical training sessions.  From the moment we first stepped up onto it, we knew that it had to be a part of our work.  It functions as a cafe table, but can be lifted and rolled into anything our hearts desire. It adds color and depth to each moment. What’s amazing is that this object gives us so much creative possibility, and yet often functions as just an ordinary table.

So when you enter into the space for Hotel Cassiopeia remember that although these objects weren’t in our original vision this world could not exist now without them.