Meet Octavian Canty | Dancer, Creative & Choreographer

We had the good fortune of connecting with Octavian Canty and we’ve shared our conversation below.
Hi Octavian, what led you to pursuing a creative path professionally?
I pursued an artistic and creative career because, for me, it was never just a passion—it was a necessity. I’ve always carried a lot inside: questions, emotions, memories, and things I didn’t always have the words for. Movement gave me a voice before I even fully understood what I was trying to say. Dance, art, performance—it all became a language I could use to process life and connect with people on a real, soul level.
There’s something powerful about taking your personal experiences—your struggles, your growth, your joy—and turning them into something visual, something felt. That’s what pulled me into this path. I wanted to create work that moved people the way art moved me. I wanted to inspire, to heal, and to challenge the way people see themselves and the world.
This career isn’t easy—it demands consistency, vulnerability, and sacrifice—but it’s worth it because it keeps me aligned with my purpose. I don’t just create to be seen. I create to be understood, and to offer that same understanding to others. This is more than just what I do—it’s who I am.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
My art is deeply personal and rooted in honest storytelling through movement and creativity. What sets me apart is my commitment to vulnerability and authenticity — I don’t just perform or choreograph to entertain; I create to connect, heal, and provoke thought. Every piece I build carries parts of my own journey — the struggles, the resilience, and the moments of clarity that have shaped me. That honesty creates a space where others can see themselves reflected, feel less alone, and find strength.
I’m most proud of how I’ve been able to cultivate a voice that’s uniquely mine, blending styles and emotions to craft visuals and performances that feel fresh and true. I’m excited about expanding that voice, collaborating with other creatives who share a passion for pushing boundaries, and continuing to grow both artistically and personally.
My professional journey wasn’t easy. Starting as a self-taught dancer at seven, I had no formal roadmap or safety net. I faced doubt, rejection, and the challenge of proving my worth in a competitive industry. What kept me going was a relentless belief in my vision and a refusal to give up. I learned to embrace discomfort, to seek out community, and to let every setback teach me something new about myself and my craft.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that success isn’t linear. Growth happens in cycles, and sometimes you have to fall apart a little to become stronger. Staying true to your voice, even when it’s hard, is what makes your work resonate.
What I really want people to know about me and my work is that it comes from a place of honesty and vulnerability. I don’t see myself as someone who has all the answers, but rather as someone who’s on a constant journey of learning and growth. Through my art, I try to explore real emotions and experiences that many people can relate to, hoping to create moments where others feel seen or understood.
I’m grateful for the opportunity to share my story in a way that invites connection rather than distance. My hope is that my work can be a quiet encouragement for others to embrace their own truths, even when that feels difficult. Every project is a chance to learn, to listen, and to be a little more open — both to myself and to the world around me.
At the end of the day, I’m just someone who loves to create and hopes that through my creativity, I can contribute something meaningful, no matter how small, to those who experience it.
If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?
I’d start by taking them to brunch at a cozy local café. We’d spend time walking around town and enjoying the simple sights. For dinner, I’d pick a relaxed spot where we can catch up comfortably.
The next day, I’d take them for a walk in a nearby park to enjoy some fresh air. We’d grab lunch at a small diner and later have drinks with friends.
Another day, we’d visit a favorite local hangout like a diner or coffee shop. Dinner would be something easy and familiar.
On a slower day, we’d check out any community events or local markets happening nearby. For dinner, we’d keep it simple and order in.
We could also take a day trip to a nearby town or nature spot.
Some days would be for relaxing—watching movies, make vision boards or just hanging out.
Finally, I’d wrap up the visit with brunch or coffee, reflecting on the week and planning the next time we get together.

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
This shoutout is for the people who didn’t even know they saved me. The ones who offered presence, not performance—who saw me, not just my talent. The ones who gave me honesty, space, and stillness in a world that often wanted noise.
It’s for the dancers who moved with purpose, not for praise—and unknowingly reminded me what it means to create from something real. For the friends who didn’t ask me to explain myself, but just let me be. Their consistency, even in silence, gave me a kind of safety I never knew I needed.
It’s also for the moments—not the people. The nights I almost gave up. The mornings I woke up still unsure, but showed up anyway. The rehearsals where no one came. The performances where no one clapped. The times I had to choose between breaking or becoming. Those moments taught me everything.
And most of all, this shoutout goes to the version of me that didn’t quit. The one who danced through numbness, created through chaos, and still believed—deep down—that his voice mattered. He wasn’t loud, but he was faithful. He held it all.
That version of me, and the rare souls who made room for him… they deserve the credit. They’re the reason I’m still here—still moving, still building, still becoming.
Instagram: @octaviancanty
Image Credits
Photography by: Cedric Bacon
