…surround yourself with good company. You are the company you keep, so surround yourself with people who make you interested, excited, and kind. Don’t be too critical of other people. Stay in your own lane, acknowledge that life is complicated, and keep working alongside friendly, helpful people…
I had the pleasure of talking with Nash Nørgaard, a man who carries the rugged, leading-man frame of a young Henry Cavill but speaks with the thoughtful precision of the philosophy student he once was. Sitting down with Nash, you don’t get the sense of a jaded industry vet; instead, you find an artist still buzzing from the electricity of the craft, someone who views a 13-hour rehearsal not as a grind, but as a gift.
Nørgaard’s journey didn’t start under the neon lights of London’s West End. He grew up in what he calls the “Ohio of the UK” — the Midlands of Cambridgeshire. It’s a place defined by rolling farmland and a social hierarchy built on the rugby pitch, not the stage. While his peers were focused on sports, Nash was returning home to a household vibrating with creativity. His Danish mother was constantly weaving or knitting, and his father was a painter. The soundtrack to his childhood wasn’t the radio Top 40, but a steady rotation of David Bowie, The Clash, and Nina Simone.
“It was odd growing up in that environment,” Nash recalls. “I would go to school and be told that there is no point in becoming an actor… getting picked on for doing so.” In the UK, he explains, the cultural divide is stark. “I always look at the American dream as High School Musical — the jock that performs. But in Britain, it’s Billy Elliot. It’s a bit different. You can’t do both.”
For years, Nash tried to fit the mold, convincing himself that a “proper” nine-to-five job was the ultimate goal. The breakthrough finally came during his university years in Edinburgh. He landed a tiny role as the baker in Stephen Sondheim’s Sunday in the Park with George at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. He had exactly two lines.
“I sat in the back with my apron on, and I couldn’t stop smiling,” he says. “The rehearsals were 13 hours long, and afterwards, I wasn’t tired. I realized then that this is probably what I should do.” That realization led him to the prestigious Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA), where he adopted a personal mantra that serves as his North Star: “You can fail at something you don’t want to do, so you might as well fail at something you do want to do.”
Nash’s commitment to the “bit” is legendary among his peers. While still in training, he landed a role in a short film titled FROG, which took him to the wilds of Chile. To get the part, he told the directors he’d “make the tea for the guy who makes the coffee” or even “kayak” his way to South America if they couldn’t afford a plane ticket.
The shoot was a “trial by fire” involving six-hour prosthetic sessions and a memorable scene where he lay nearly naked on a kitchen floor, covered in a slime made of soaked chia seeds. “The crew was speaking Spanish, which I don’t speak… I was practically naked in a foreign country, and I thought, ‘If this wasn’t for me, I’d be freaking out right now.’ But I still had a massive smile on my face.”
That “yes-man” energy, however, has its costs. Nash admits that his biggest struggle is learning when to put on the brakes. During the filming of an adaptation of Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Ilyich, his refusal to step away from the 14-hour days led to a total collapse. “I burnt out. I had to spend a day in a dark room because I had spent a whole week practically not sleeping or eating, just entirely invested in this project.” It taught him a hard lesson: “the best ability is availability.”
Beyond the screen, Nash is a writer who digs into his own DNA for material. He recently produced a show called The Horse Called Bull, based on a heart-wrenching entry in his great-grandfather’s WWII journal. The story involved an accountant who befriended an unruly horse, only to accidentally betray it. “I wanted to give my great-grandfather the opportunity to apologize and find closure,” Nash says. The performance was so raw it left his mother in tears, watching her son channel a relative who passed away before he was born.
When he isn’t covered in prosthetic goo or miming horses, Nash finds his zen in the kitchen. He’s a big believer in the “dinner party” as a form of social glue. “Breaking bread is the best way to meet someone,” he notes, suggesting that the world might be a better place if we spent more time discussing and less time arguing.
As he prepares for the international festival run of FROG, Nash remains grounded by a simple, British sense of humility. His advice for those following in his footsteps? Find out how people like their tea, stay in your own lane, and for heaven’s sake, don’t rely on “terrible” pre-packaged grocery store sandwiches.
“The only way to lose is to quit,” he says with a grin. “As long as you’re still at the table, you still have a chance.”
Yitzi: Nash, it’s such a delight to meet you. Before we dive in deep, our readers would love to learn about your personal origin story. Can you share the story of your childhood and how you grew up, and particularly the seeds for all the amazing things that have come since then?
Nash: Absolute pleasure. Thank you. It’s the first place to start, really. I come from a lovely family where my mother is of Danish descent, and my father grew up in the Midlands of the Cambridgeshire area, which to an American audience, I understand as the Ohio of the UK. I think that’s what I’m going to frame it as. They always loved music and the arts. I grew up with my dad painting, and my mother loved fashion and craft. She was always making something; she would be weaving or knitting. There was always something going on artistically. To be honest, it was different from how my peers were raised. I come from a very farming-centric part of the world. I come from a part where sports are considered the standard-bearer for popularity. I come from a place where there is really no funding for the arts. Maybe me and two others really enjoyed theater, to be honest. It was odd growing up in that environment, coming home where arts were all around me, with paintings on the walls and constant David Bowie, The Clash, Nina Simone, or Ella Fitzgerald playing. There was constantly great art around me. Then I would go to school and be told that there is no point in becoming an actor or pursuing it, and getting picked on for doing so. I always look at the American dream as High School Musical — the jock that performs. But in Britain, it’s Billy Elliot. It’s a bit different. You can’t do both. I struggled for a long time and convinced myself I wanted to get a proper job where you clock in nine to five, and you’re happy, and that’s the dream. For a long time, I was in denial and thought that was what I was going to do. But it was only when I went to university and had a little bit of time to spend on myself that I realized I actually love making things. I love acting. I love creating. The Edinburgh Fringe is an internationally renowned arts festival, and I was lucky enough to go to university in Edinburgh. I did the Edinburgh Fringe one year, and I had the smallest part. I don’t know if anyone knows Sunday in the Park with George by Sondheim; I was the baker, and I had two lines. I sat in the back with my apron on, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I just loved it. The rehearsals were long, and even though I only had two lines, it didn’t make any sense, but I had to be there. They were 13 hours long, and afterwards, I wasn’t tired. I realized then that this is probably what I should do. Then I spent all my time in theaters, rehearsing and doing any show I could get my hands on — film, musicals, straight dramas, whatever I could do, and writing as much as I could. I then took the plunge and applied to drama school, and I was lucky enough to get into RADA. From there, I made a small promise to myself: you can fail at something you don’t want to do, so you might as well fail at something you do want to do. That’s what brought me here. I could try to be an accountant or a lawyer, and I’d fail and be bad at it, so I might as well try to be good at something I enjoy.
Yitzi: You probably have some amazing stories from different parts of your training, different parts of your career. Maybe this is hard to single out, but can you share with our readers one or two stories that most stand out in your mind from your career so far?
Nash: I was fortunate enough — I know they don’t like you to leave your training to go and do other things — but I was lucky enough to be cast in a short film during my time at drama school. The opportunity was to go to Chile and film for two weeks with Iconoclast Productions, a fantastic production company with bases in South America, Germany, America, and all over. I saw the creative team and directors behind it and said I had to be part of this project. I remember speaking to the directors and saying, “Look, you can get more established actors than me who have done more, and I understand that. But I’ll be in first, I’ll be last to leave, I’ll make the tea for the guy who makes the coffee. I’ll do it all. Don’t even bother getting me a plane ticket; give me a kayak and a piece of wood, and I’ll get myself to Chile to be on set.” For some reason, they took it. I was lucky enough to go to Chile and meet some fantastic actors and directors. It was a real trial by fire with long hours, full prosthetics — spending five or six hours in a chair being turned into a frog, essentially — and combat, intimacy, stunt work, and scene work. All of it in this one first experience. I thought, “This is going to make or break me. I either love this or I hate this.” There was a moment where I was in an architectural phenomenon of a house, lying on the kitchen floor, getting covered in chia seeds. When you mix them with water, it makes a goo. I didn’t know this was a thing. They were covering me in this chia seed goo while I was wearing nothing but a small intimacy sock. I had full prosthetics on, covered in goo, and the crew was speaking Spanish, which I don’t speak. I had no one around me who spoke my language. I was practically naked in a foreign country, and I thought, “If this wasn’t for me, I’d be freaking out right now.” But I still had a massive smile on my face. I was grinning, laughing, and trying to make jokes in broken Spanish with the people around me. It was a real trial by fire, and I loved it. I’m lucky to be part of the project, and hopefully, it’s going to go to big film festivals. It’s such a talented team. That’s probably my best story so far, and they only wrapped that at the end of last year.
Yitzi: It’s an amazing story and you’re an amazing storyteller. By the way, just parenthetically, you remind me a lot of Henry Cavill. Like you look like him, you speak like him.
Nash: Thank you so much. I’m a massive fan of his work. I am lucky to be part of the British acting scene. I would say I’m at the entry level, but I aspire to be like these fantastic actors — Henry Cavill, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Hardy, Jack O’Connell, Josh O’Connor. I don’t think I’d ever be able to be calm and collected around Henry Cavill. I think I’d still be thinking, “That’s Superman in front of me. Act cool, be cool. Just a colleague.” But he will never just be a colleague; he will still be Superman to me.
Yitzi: There’s a saying that sometimes our mistakes can be our greatest teachers. Do you have a story about a humorous or funny mistake that you made when you were first starting acting and the lesson that you took away from it?
Nash: It’s not necessarily a mistake, but there are different approaches to things. We had tutors at RADA who would sit us down and tell us their opinions of us as performers, because you always have to have an opinion on art. I remember one tutor told me that I was going to have to learn to say no to things and put up some barriers. He saw me perform, and I would go flat out every night. The training we received was very devising-heavy, inspired by Grotowski’s poor theatre — the idea of putting on a great show with as little budget as possible. I was always down to do anything. “Duct tape me to a chair, hang me upside down, use me as a pendulum — I don’t mind, let’s do it.” He told me I would have to learn to put the brakes on and not say yes to everything. I completely agree with where he was coming from; it is valuable advice for a young, up-and-coming actor. But part of me will always want to commit to the project. The reason I never say no to anything is because I always want to serve the project. I don’t mind working longer hours. An actor is well within their rights to say they don’t want to work that long, but I’m just so excited to be a part of a project that I agree to it. We did a fantastic film based on a Tolstoy novella, The Death of Ivan Ilyich. We shot for 10, 12, 14 hours in one room. I just kept saying, “One more take, let’s do it from a different angle, yes, let’s keep doing it.” I burnt out. I had to spend a day in a dark room because I had spent a whole week practically not sleeping or eating, just entirely invested in this project. When I came out afterwards, what the tutor said rang true: protect yourself as a performer, because the best ability is availability. If I keep saying yes to things, I’ll burn out. It’s like an excitable puppy — sometimes you need to rein yourself in. That’s something I’m still grappling with. I still make mistakes and say yes to too many things, and I find myself exhausted and unable to perform or create what I want because I’m tired or committed elsewhere. That’s probably the biggest lesson I’ve learned.
Yitzi: There’s another saying that no is not rejection but redirection. Do you have a story like that where you got a no to an opportunity but ultimately it led to a better opportunity or better success or a blessing?
Nash: I’m a big proponent — and I know my fantastic manager Shruti is as well — that things will come to you that you deserve. I’m also a big proponent that you make your own luck. It may not feel like it at the time, but often things do come back around. I have a saying: “The only way to lose is to quit. As long as you’re still at the table, you still have a chance.” There have been times when I have been rejected for parts that people said were absolutely for me. Then two weeks later they say the character went another way. You just have to acknowledge that it’s fair enough and that opportunities will come back around. I’m early in my career, so rejection is something I’m learning to deal with. You just keep playing. I’m inspired by Olivia Colman. She was a working actress for a long time, but it was only later in her career that she really cracked it, and now she’s an Academy Award winner. I don’t know if this is a true story, but supposedly her mother told her, “Just go to one more audition.” And the rest is history. So I don’t see “no” as rejection; I see it as another stepping stone towards where I hope to be one day. That’s how I frame it for myself.
Yitzi: What’s been the most challenging project or role you’ve taken on so far and why?
Nash: I do a lot of writing, and I was fortunate enough to get a little bit of time and budget to make my own show called The Horse Called Bull. It was based on my great-grandfather, Benji, and his relationship with his horse in World War II. He was just an accountant outside of Bath, and he didn’t belong in a war. He struck up a relationship with his mount, a humongous and unruly horse that had been abused on a farm and didn’t respect authority. But the horse saw similarities in Benji, so they became close friends. Eventually, through malicious compliance, Benji accidentally betrayed Bull, and Bull had to be put down. I read this story in one of my great-grandfather’s old journals. The journal was incredibly thick, but the story about Bull was only one page. You could tell that, as a man in that time period, he had not come to terms with the story. He was unable to speak about it because it still hurt him; he never got to apologize to Bull. When I wrote this story, I wanted to give my great-grandfather the opportunity to apologize and find closure. That was so difficult for me because it was deeply personal. He passed before I was born, but my mother says we are very similar. I think it was an emotional time for my mother to watch me put this performance on and manufacture an opportunity for him to say sorry. It was an emotionally taxing story to tell. Also, I had to mime a horse, which is nearly impossible. That had its own challenges during rehearsals, trying to figure out how to move. It was a real challenge, but it was absolutely worthwhile.
Yitzi: So please tell us about the exciting new things you’re working on now and what we should expect to be seeing in the near future.
Nash: Frog is coming to an international film festival near you. I would love for people to see it; it’s a project I’m really proud of. In terms of acting, I have lots of projects in London that I’m working on — things I’ve written myself, as well as short films and features with fantastic creators that I can’t mention just yet. There are plenty of exciting things in the works. I’m very fresh in the industry, but I want to hit the ground running as hard as I can and make the best of it.
Yitzi: This is our signature question, our essential question. So Nash, you’ve been blessed with a lot of success now. You have an amazing career ahead of you. Looking back to when you first started acting, can you share five things that you’ve learned over the years that would have been nice to know when you first started? Five things that you’ve learned over the years that would have been nice to know in the beginning.
Nash:
- First, you are the pointy end of a very long stick. Acknowledge that everyone else is far more important than you are when it comes to the creative process. Don’t let it get to your head.
- Second, find out how everyone likes their tea. There is nothing more British than making someone a cup of tea, and it is a real honor to do so on set.
- Third, trust people. It’s massively important when you’re starting out to find collaborators whose work you enjoy, trust them, and let them trust you. The arts are collaborative, and the people you meet along the way are the ones you will repeatedly work with throughout your career.
- Fourth, surround yourself with good company. You are the company you keep, so surround yourself with people who make you interested, excited, and kind. Don’t be too critical of other people. Stay in your own lane, acknowledge that life is complicated, and keep working alongside friendly, helpful people.
- Finally, eat some food. Just don’t starve yourself. Keep going, but it’s not worth skipping meals. Tesco meal deals are terrible.
Yitzi: On a more personal note, can you share some of the self-care routines that you do to help your body, mind, and heart to thrive?
Nash: Ever since I played rugby as a kid, I’ve been into going to the gym. I still try to carve out time to go. As an actor, you don’t really have a constant workplace, so having a place to return to as an emotional and spiritual base of operations is helpful. The gym community is lovely, and you can make some really good friends there. Second, get as much sleep as you can, because you will burn out if you don’t. Third, cook and eat with people. Be of service and cook for others. I love cooking, and feeding people feeds your soul. Throw big dinner parties for acquaintances, not just friends. Get to know people over dinner; breaking bread is the best way to meet someone. That’s my self-care routine: go to the gym and host dinner parties.
Yitzi: Okay, this is what we call our aspirational question. Nash, because of your great work and the platform that you built, you’re a person of great influence. If you could spread an idea or inspire a movement that would bring the most amount of good to the most amount of people, what would that be? Because you never know what your idea can spread or inspire.
Nash: I studied philosophy at university, and I realized pretty early on that there is a difference between a discussion and an argument. I think we argue too much and don’t discuss enough. I would try to champion listening to people, being kind, and giving space. Listen to people you don’t agree with and talk to them, because you often find we have a lot more in common than we think. That’s something I have found repeatedly. People I assume I won’t get along with often turn out to be quite similar to me. So be kind, don’t argue, discuss. That’s my mantra.
Yitzi: Amazing. How can our readers continue to follow your work? How can they watch your latest film? How can they support your work in any possible way?
Nash: They can follow me on Instagram at @nash.norgard for more immediate updates and to see whatever I’m cooking up at the moment. Aside from that, just wait — there will be plenty of things coming out in the future.
Yitzi: Nash, it’s been so delightful meeting you. I wish you continued success and good health and blessings, and I hope we can do this again in the near future.
Nash: I would adore that. Thank you, it’s been an absolute pleasure. You are always welcome for a dinner party if you ever find yourself in London. I promise it’s not like Gangs of London.
Nash Nørgaard on ‘FROG,’ RADA and Why “The Only Way to Lose Is to Quit” was originally published in Authority Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.