Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Steven Owsley. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Steven, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Learning the craft is often a unique journey from every creative – we’d love to hear about your journey and if knowing what you know now, you would have done anything differently to speed up the learning process.

No one in my family is musical, but everyone is a story teller. My parents stopped acting when they were in college, and that’s when I started. I begged for piano lessons when I was a kid, and my parents reluctantly arranged for me to get them. They were only reluctant because of my short attention span and avid tendency to start a thousand projects never finish. To everyone’s shock, the keyboard and I became inseparable.

Acting was more elusive, but none the less powerful. I remember making my mom laugh by reenacting black and white sitcoms in the kitchen while she was making dinner. I did one play in junior high and then a few skits in high schools In College, after writing and acting in a very successful comedy , I decided to take an acting class because I had the room in my schedule. I have never looked back.

My ability to learn to was crippled by my insecurity. I had no self-confidence to speak of in my 20’s. In 2016 I began to train at the Purple Rose Theater (Founded by Jeff Daniels) and they had a warm-up activity called “Fire the judge.” Actor’s considered the voice in their head that told them were “too ugly,” “too dumb,” or “too old” and simply said “You’re fired!” They gave that voice the night off and were to work without inner criticism. The voice in my head telling me I was an ugly loser who would never succeed was a daily banner over my brain. Beginning to take control of my mindset started with “Firing the Judge.” My fears did not dissipate all at once, but they no longer had permission to stop me. I began to apply myself fully in unknown situations and circumstances. I began to build the self-love I would need to combat my own demons and the difficulties of a life seeking professional success in the arts.

A pianist and an actor must both develop the skill of listening. Once understanding of a goal is reached, an artist must creatively solve the problems presented by the expectations and needs of audiences and directors/producers.

Actors and musical performers must fail publicly to grow. I was terrified to move beyond certain muscle memory to grow in my ability to act, speak, sing, play piano, and teach. Learning to move out of your comfort zone consistently and being willing to fail fabulously is one of the great lessons of a developing artist.

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?

I am a lover of theater and music and have done dozens of musicals and creative projects. I began to play piano when I was 8 years old, and have been obsessed ever since. Acting was always in me, but didn’t have anywhere to be identified or nurtured until I was in college. I grew up in Brazil to American parents and I loved to imitate accents, voices, and scenes for my friends and family, but I didn’t have an outlet or catalyst for those artistic impulses aside from church skits and some other informal settings. In college, I wrote and performed a comedy skit for an auditorium of 1000 of my friends (who were crying with laughter), and then I took an acting class on campus, and that completely changed the trajectory of my life. Since then I have served on the boards of theater companies, studied at the Purple Rose Theater (founded by Jeff Daniels in Chelsea, Michigan) and at Baron Brown Studio in Santa Monica. I have been in over 40 theater productions and short and feature films.

We’d love to hear a story of resilience from your journey.

I arrived in Los Angeles in December of 2023 with the rug pre-pulled from beneath my feet. An acquaintance had promised myself and my roomamate at the time, a room to rent. On our 4-day road trip from Michigan to California the acquaintance messaged and told us the room was longer available. I frantically began to look for lodging. I was also applying for jobs and learning to use the LA public transit system. I thought the toil and pain of Los Angeles would be getting rejected at auditions, but the reality of surviving in the low energy economy of January was the first monster I faced.

My roommate became discontent with the Los Angeles scene after 4 weeks of traffic, striving, and unmet expectations. He decided to return to Michigan, with the car that had brought us to LA. He offered me a ride home, and I politely declined, though was temped to take the escape route. I had applied for 200 hundred jobs and have landed a part time job teaching piano. But I knew I had to stay.

Then I got a phone call that changed my life. An actor I had befriended on Facebook heard me sing and gave my name to a director who was looking for men for her theater production of “Fiddler on the Rood.” Cantor Judy Sofer called me and said “Hi! You come recommended from a mutual friend. Can you sing for me? Can you do a Russian accent?” I sang a few bars of “Some Enchanted Evening” and said a few phrases with the accent I had worked on when playing “Kolekhov” in “You Can’t Take It With You.” She said “Great! Send me a picture and we will see on Sunday for rehearsal!” In a daze of excitement and fear, I sent a picture of my face and she gleefully replied, “Oh Good! You look Russian! See you sunday!”

I had no money, no car, no roomate, no job and was monkey-barring from hostel to hostel, and I had been cast sight unseen in a musical 3 weeks after arriving in LA.

That Sunday I took 3 hours of buses and trains to get to rehearsal and was singing “Tradition” in a room full of friendly new faces. I was cast as Fyedka, the Russian suitor, and had vocal solos and dance numbers as the Russian. But when the choreographer saw my ability to move he put me as the lead Bottle dancer for that number.

Some of my professional contacts and new friends in LA shook their heads and said “Why would you take an unpaid acting gig when you are struggling so much?” I smiled back.

I came out to LA because I love to act. I would love to make a living at it. I was given the most beautiful opportunity in a big, scary city, to do what I love, and learn something new. I took buses and trains from Venice to Pasadena (arriving on time each time) and the hours of buses and trains gave me a chance apply for jobs, and follow up with creative opportunities.

A few months after “Fiddler” closed, the same company produced “The Wisdom of Eve” (the stage adaptation of “All About Eve”) and I was cast in my audition. Within 9 months of arriving in Los Angeles, I had played two roles in iconic stories. Both were unpaid, but provided massive feasts of fulfillment and great fuel in my forward trajectory.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

One of the great lessons of my adult life has been to joyously eat frogs. I read a book called “Eat That Frog” by Brian Tracy and the premise of the book states that if the most difficult or unpleasant thing you have to do in a day is eat a frog, do that first. Procrastination is more about avoidance than busyness.

My natural sensitivity can delay crucial conversations. Upsetting people I am in relationship with or respect as peers is hard for me. I had to unlearn my need to protect myself from embarrassment while also striving for what I wanted. When I was nearly 300 pounds, I didnt want to go to the gym and be seen by anyone. When I was learning to sing, I didn’t want anyone to hear me even though I was fine-tuning those skills for an audience.

I procrastinated fitness goals, audition prep, asking for help, and following through with requests from others because of my fear. They were frogs that developed into monsters in my mind that I did want to deal with. Those frogs had to be eaten.

Sensitivity as an Artist is your super power. I cherish and celebrate that I have a rich emotional life and respond more through intuition than with logic. But it can also freeze you. I had to eat frogs no matter how I felt about them. It’s been freeing to put my needs and passion ahead of the resistance and laziness. Your uneaten frogs will always threaten to choke your artist’s journey.

Instead of collecting excuses and letting my emotional life decide how ready I was, I joyously eat the frogs that are unattractive and unpleasant.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @hollywoodpianoman
• Facebook: Steven Owsley
• Other: [email protected]