![Mia Cooper: 'The older I get, the more at ease I am [but] I get into a hot rage when I smash a cup.' Photograph: Andres Poveda](https://www.irishtimes.com/resizer/v2/2S7Y252MTBH2RHMLZWZ7WALXME.jpg?auth=7ff6441453f93eedc0614845a279007d909c11c51182defe16bbd0f0fdf2c389&smart=true&width=1024&height=1536)
How agreeable are you?
I was thinking about this, and I’d almost perjure myself in court to avoid any conflict. I would do anything to avoid a conflict. I’m a bit of a pushover. The older I get, I guess the more at ease I am with myself anyway, and so too with other people. So yes, I’m agreeable. I’m like the dog that rolls over. Possibly to my detriment, sometimes.
What’s your middle name and what do you think of it?
It’s Suzanne. I think it was a mix-up. I think I was meant to be Susannah Marie – my parents were arguing, third child and all that. I’m named after the actress Susannah York. My dad was a particular fan of hers. She must have been sort of hot back then.
Where is your favourite place in Ireland?
I’ve been here 19 years but I still don’t know enough places. But there’s lots of places I feel good. You know where you have a feeling of wellbeing. Last summer my eldest daughter was doing the Sligo Jazz festival – brilliant festival – and we all went along. I went on Strandhill Beach. And then I climbed Knocknarea, Maeve’s tomb and all that, and I felt so good. I felt rooted, so I loved that.
It’s amazing – you climb up there and Queen Maeve’s tomb is there. The legend is that she was buried standing upright, facing her enemies. It grips me, the whole ancientness and the queenliness. It’s beautiful.
His leer was so filthy it would have you reaching for hand sanitiser. A man over 40. A man who knew so, so much better
Irishman in Singapore: I wondered if I was foolish to emigrate in my 50s. But I feel more alive than ever
‘My sister’s boyfriend never left us alone at Christmas. Should I confront her?’
Describe yourself in three words
A bit scatty.
When did you last get angry?
I always get really, really angry – like, unreasonably angry – when I smash something; if I smash a cup. It’s so silly. But everything rises hotly to the surface. I get into a hot rage if I smash something and I’ll usually then grab something else and smash that as well. So, I’ll compound it. I’ll drop one mug and then the family leaves the kitchen and then whatever is in arm’s reach I’ll throw it on the floor. I don’t even realise there’s stuff near the surface but there must be because it bubbles up so quickly when I smash a mug or a plate. The last time I broke something was fairly recently. It’s a common occurrence. I mean there’s something every month, isn’t there? Well, every week, really.
What have you lost that you would like to have back?
My iPhone was stolen when my second daughter was a year old and I hadn’t backed up a single photo. So, her first 12 months were gone, and I cried so helplessly. I was heartbroken. I hadn’t backed up. I don’t even know how, really, so they didn’t go to the cloud. It was so unbearable.
What’s your strongest childhood memory?
Probably similar to a lot of people – becoming lost. I got detached from my mum and my family in an aquarium. There were lots of twists and turns and I remember going to try to find her and all I could see was sharks and jellyfish and things from nightmares. It was like a claustrophobia as well, and I still have to bat down that feeling sometimes of claustrophobia. I’d have been pretty small, about three or four.
When I brought my own kids to the aquarium I remembered the feeling; the smell and the tight spaces of an aquarium. We went down to Sea Life in Bray [which closed last year] and I remembered it.
Where do you come in your family’s birth order, and has this defined you?
I think it defines everyone. I find it very interesting. I’m third of three that came in quick succession. My family is fairly uptight and I’m probably the most laid back because of that order. Even though I’m leader of the orchestra, I find I’m more natural in a more supportive role, or a number-two-type role. I think that is why conductors do enjoy working with me, because co-operation comes to me naturally. It’s important to me. And being happily led, even though I’m the leader.
What do you expect to happen when you die?
I’m afraid that’s it. Lights out. I don’t believe in an afterlife. I think all that’s left is the legacy of our actions. I don’t like the prospect of the lights going out, or that being it. But I think that’s what it is.
When were you happiest?
Like most mothers, when I met my children. I think it was a relief for me to become a mother. I was worried it might not happen. I’m happier after a concert. It’s the relief. [The violinist and conductor] Yehudi Menuhin said after a concert you’re all warm and you can leave the scene of the crime. He would always leave a concert very quickly. And the relief of having done your work. You can’t take it back. It’s not tangible even, what you’ve done, but if it’s music it’s out there, especially if it hasn’t been recorded.
Which actor would play you in a biopic about your life?
Embarrassing to say because she’s so beautiful, but Kate Winslet. Because I love her and she’s not afraid to look a bit unkempt and she still looks amazing. I met her at a party. And she was hugging everybody. She was so kind and funny and then I got a hug and I was completely star-struck. Whenever she’s interviewed I just think she’s natural. She’s not your typical, guarded, A-lister. She’s totally warm and she was absolutely delightful.
What’s your biggest career/personal regret?
I don’t engage with social media at all. I’m so antiquated. It’s also a choice. But it means the price in today’s world that you pay for not engaging with social media is losing contact with people. I’ve lost contact with a lot of people that I do care about along the way. I think I can be quite obsessive as well about things, so I would probably spend too much time on it.
Have you any psychological quirks?
I have no manias at all. I’m not a brave enough person to ask other people for an opinion on it. Because you can’t see yourself clearly in the mirror. I always sort of wanted a mania. I was always rather jealous of people who were interesting enough to have one. I’m not phobic. I can’t even invent one, but perhaps that’s because I’m truly a psychopath and I can’t see myself clearly.
In conversation with Jen Hogan.
