We recently connected with Ashley Morton and have shared our conversation below.
Ashley, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Was there an experience or lesson you learned at a previous job that’s benefited your career afterwards?
I’ve been on tour for my last two jobs. You learn something new and weird and great every time your’e on the road, from what to pack to not blowing your whole paycheck on takeout. A really big one I’ve learned though, is that your alone time is valuable currency. You really only have so much to give every day, and when you’re a performer, you forget that your JOB requires giving a lot of yourself to the show. So when you’re only doing the show once or twice a day, totaling give-or-take 5 commutative hours of work, you THINK you have a lot more in the tank to give socially. YOU MIGHT NOT. AND THAT’S OKAY. Take time for yourself before you start to act disproportionately cranky toward people who don’t deserve it (or do, it doesn’t matter). And definitely take time for yourself before you get yourself too tired or sick

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?
Unlike most people in my profession, my ~journey~ into musical theatre took a minute. I got a BFA in Acting from USC in Los Angeles, and thought the rest of my life would involve fighting the good “Film/TV” fight, shuffling some Chekhov and Shakespeare into the mix once in a while. But then I auditioned for a random traveling production of Beauty and the Beast (the musical, excuse me), booked it, and that was that. Everything worth note on my resume ever since has been onstage.
I had to kind of fake my way through MT for a while. I wasn’t in the best technical shape for Broadway-style singing, and my dancing was frankly abysmal (it took no more than one dance call to tell me I was an “actor first”). But I was always a damn good actor. That’s how I got the gigs I got. And the more I worked, the more I learned, and the more I learned, the better I got. I’m still not a DANCER dancer, but I can muscle through a pirouette here and there. And my singing got a lot better and my acting did too, frankly. It’s amazing what being alive for another decade can do for your storytelling prowess.
It’s because of this learning curve I got into coaching. When the pandemic hit, the industry stood still. In fact it died, as we knew it. So I looked at what I could do, and what I could do was act and sing, and so I could SHOW someone how to act and sing, and I developed a bit of a clientele. I still coach on zoom from my little office in my apartment, with my keyboard and my desktop folder full of monologues and sheet music. It is bliss.
I’m delusional/certain that I’m about two credits away from not being a complete and total “who’s she again? Oh right, from the non-union touring circuit. Yeah, let’s call her back, why not,” and more of a “is she available? What can we offer so she CAN be available??” Something like that. Until then though, I host at a speakeasy piano bar where I get to sing oldies covers until 1 AM. I audition every week. I’m in a superb acting class. I coach my wonderful students. I relentlessly learn how to be better at all of the above.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.
When I was 18, I explained to people I was getting a degree in acting. They would ask what that would do for me (be a better actor), what would I do after graduating (act), how would I make a living (serving tables. KIDDING! By acting. And serving tables).
When I graduated at 21, the same questions came but with a little more severity and concern. “Okay NOW what?” “You’re an actor! What do you know you from?” And the worst one “What are you working on right now/next/for the rest of your little life?”
Now, almost 30 years old (thank god), I get the questions that have nothing to do with my career. “Are you guys getting engaged soon?” “You don’t want kids? But you’d be such an amazing mom!” “So you’re queer, and your boyfriend’s queer, how does that work?” “Can you provide your insurance member ID before checking in?” (that one was from this morning). These queries almost make me miss the ones from my early twenties. Almost.
In short, non-creatives struggle to understand why my life doesn’t look like theirs. Why I choose to be a little weirdo playing pretend, and asking people to pay me a lot of money to do so. They don’t really understand that I prioritize my happiness and my dreams. And that a lot of being happy requires being just a teensy bit selfish.
What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?
YOU DO NOT NEED TO BE SKINNY TO BE SUCCESSFUL. I developed a tricky-to-notice-but-very-much-there eating disorder at the end of college, that lasted until about 2020, and after I gained back a healthy and necessary 20 pounds, guess what? I kept booking work.
You need to eat, you need to rest, you need to do what you can to feel good. Life’s hard enough as it is.
Contact Info:
- Website: ashmorton.com
- Instagram: @ashmort
- Other: TikTok: @ashmortymort
Image Credits
Michael Kushner Photography (Headshot)

