The Middle East has never lacked ambition. From record-breaking opening ceremonies to immersive mega-events and headline-grabbing international tours, the region has built a reputation for scale, speed and spectacle. When it commits to a vision, it delivers – and often does so better than anywhere else in the world.
But as the live entertainment landscape here matures, a quieter and more important question is beginning to surface beneath the lights and laser beams: are we building an industry, or are we simply importing moments?
After more than two decades producing theatre, live events and large-scale entertainment across the Middle East, I have come to believe this firmly: the next chapter for the region will not be led by shows alone. It will be led by producers.
This distinction matters more than it may first appear. A show is, by nature, a finished object. It arrives with a script, a creative blueprint, a budget structure and a history of success elsewhere. That has enormous value. It brings confidence, credibility and often a ready-made audience. But it also has limitations.
A producer, by contrast, is not a product but a process. Producers are involved long before the curtain rises and long after it falls. They are concerned not only with what appears on stage, but with how that moment came to exist at all – and what it leaves behind.
Producers sit at the intersection of creative ambition and commercial reality, shaping ideas so they can survive contact with budgets, venues, cultural context and human beings. They are responsible for coherence – between story and spectacle, between vision and delivery, between aspiration and sustainability.
When a touring production lands in the region, the central question is often framed as “Can this work here?” A producer asks something more nuanced: should it? And if so, how do we make it belong?
The Middle East does not suffer from a lack of talent. On the contrary, the region is rich with creative minds, skilled technicians and world-class suppliers. What is often missing is the connective tissue: people who understand both global best practice and regional nuance, and who can translate between the two. That translation is not administrative; it is deeply creative.
It is understanding why a West End musical may need adaptation rather than replication. It is knowing when spectacle serves the story, and when it overwhelms it. It is recognising that cultural intelligence is not a constraint on creativity, but one of its greatest assets. This is where producers add irreplaceable value – not by diluting ambition, but by sharpening it.
Importing a show into the region is, at its core, a transaction. Building a creative ecosystem is a relationship.
True producers think in terms of years rather than seasons. They ask how a production develops local crews rather than flying everything in and out. They consider how regional performers are nurtured alongside international talent. They pay attention to audience literacy – how tastes evolve, how trust is built, how appetite grows. They care about what remains once the trucks have gone and the marketing banners have come down.
In markets such as London or New York, producers are trusted custodians of continuity. They carry institutional memory. They absorb risk so artists can take creative leaps. They provide the long view. For the Middle East to reach a similar maturity, producers must be empowered – not bypassed.
The region now stands at an inflection point. Audiences are more discerning. Clients are more experienced. Technology, once the primary differentiator, has become ubiquitous. What increasingly sets work apart is not how impressive it looks, but how deeply it resonates.
The Middle East does not need ever-bigger shows for the sake of scale. It needs smarter production thinking: experiences designed for place rather than pasted onto it; events that balance innovation with meaning; entertainment that engages emotionally, not just visually. This is not the work of suppliers or platforms alone. It is the work of producers.
My own career has been built through total ownership of production rather than a single lane within it. Across theatre, live events, licenced productions, bespoke spectacles and large-scale ceremonies, I have been directly responsible for every stage of the process – from casting and creative development to sponsorship, financing, venue negotiations, licensing, budgets, contracts and delivery.
That breadth is not incidental; it is what has made me a stronger producer. Understanding how a show is funded changes how it is conceived. Understanding casting changes how it is written. Understanding venues, logistics and risk changes how ambition is shaped into something deliverable.
Through West End Worldwide, my focus has never been simply to bring shows into the region, but to build productions from the inside out – creating worlds where creative excellence, commercial reality and regional context are aligned from day one. I have seen what happens when producers are embedded early, guiding decisions holistically, and I have seen what is lost when production thinking is fragmented, reactive or brought in too late.
The Middle East has already proven it can host the world. The opportunity now is to shape it.
If the region wants longevity, legacy and leadership in live entertainment, it must invest not only in what appears on stage, but in who is shaping it from the start. Shows will always come and go. Producers are the ones who build what remains.
Photos: West End Worldwide
