Executive Project Director Kylie Mcomish on mentorship, motivation and managing 184 days of programming in Osaka

Kylie Mcomish has built an extraordinary career across programming, production, and operations – from her early days in community theatre in Australia to leading some of the world’s most ambitious international Expos. Most recently, she has headed the team under the THA and BLKK banner responsible for delivering the programming and events for the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia’s pavilion at Expo 2025 in Osaka.

As the six-month activation draws to a close, the Saudi Pavilion stands as one of the most dynamic and talked-about experiences at Expo. Featuring more than forty distinct events and hundreds of creative collaborations, it has brought the culture, innovation, and spirit of Saudi Arabia vividly to life on the world stage

We caught up with Kylie as the project nears completion – a moment of reflection after what she describes as the most challenging and rewarding experience of her career. Having previously worked with her during Expo 2020 Dubai, we were eager to hear more about her journey, her approach to leadership, and the lessons she has carried forward from delivering a project of this scale and significance.

WW: You’ve obviously built an amazing career in production and operations. How did you first get into this world? Is there a particular moment or project that set you on this path?

KM: I’ve always been drawn to performance – to the magic of storytelling, the thrill of bringing something to life in front of an audience. For years, I thought I’d be an actress. That was the dream. But then someone told me I probably wasn’t in the top ten of my class and might want to consider another path. It was a quiet heartbreak, but also a turning point. I thought, if I can’t be on stage, maybe I’ll go backstage.

My journey there wasn’t exactly linear. I began with a Bachelor of Creative Arts, full of curiosity but uncertain about where I truly belonged. At first, I thought I’d be a writer –  until I learned I’d have to produce a novella, and I ran for the door. Then I tried visual arts, but when I was told to “appropriate” someone else’s work, I couldn’t see the point. I didn’t want to reinterpret; I wanted to create. Eventually, I found my way into theatre – and something finally clicked. I completed a Bachelor of Applied Theatre, though not without detours. I became a wife and mother to my daughter at the end of my second year, took a year off, and came back to finish my degree. It wasn’t the easiest path, but it grounded me. It taught me resilience – and how creativity often grows best in the cracks between structure and chaos.

My early career unfolded in the world of community arts and festivals – those big, joyful, volunteer-driven events where hundreds of people come together to make something larger than themselves. I founded a small theatre company within one of those festivals, producing shows and working alongside university students. That experience shaped how I see collaboration and leadership. 

I’ve always gravitated toward mentoring and training, not because I ever wanted to teach, but because I love that spark that comes when someone’s discovering something for the first time. That’s probably what drew me into the start-up world. There’s a similar electricity in it — that raw, restless energy of people building something from scratch. The long hours, the uncertainty, the shared ambition — it all reminds me of those early days in the theatre. Creating something where there was nothing before. In the end, it’s always been about that same feeling: being part of something new, something alive. Whether it’s a show, a festival, or a start-up, I’ve never stopped chasing that moment where creation and collaboration meet — and the whole thing starts to hum.

WW: The KSA pavilion in Expo 2025 Osaka has been open since April. What’s it like for you now to walk through the space and see it buzzing with activity?

KM: The pavilion itself is breathtaking. Visitors step through the alleyways and wander along narrow, winding streets that eventually open into the Saudi Courtyard — the beating heart of the space. By day, it’s calm and contemplative; by night, it transforms into a vibrant stage for performances and gatherings. It’s a space that never stands still, constantly shifting, adapting, and revealing new dimensions of Saudi life.

From there, you can lose yourself in what feels like a small village — twisting alleyways, windows that frame glimpses of art and light, and doorways that invite you into immersive experiences. It has an undeniable sense of place. You don’t just see the Kingdom here; you feel it; its rhythm, its warmth, its everyday beauty. That authenticity sets it apart from so many other pavilions at Expo, and it’s what people connect with most deeply.

Over six months, we hosted more than 40 unique events coupled with a 184 days of programming that span from business events in our collaboration hub at the pavilion to intricate creative performances inspired by stories from every region of the Kingdom. Each one is an opportunity to explore a different facet of Saudi identity – its traditions, innovation, humour, and humanity.

What we’ve learned through this process is that curiosity is powerful. Visitors arrive eager to understand the Kingdom beyond the headlines, and when they experience the culture firsthand through storytelling, art, and shared conversation, something changes. Every event, every performance, every interaction becomes a small bridge between worlds. And that, more than anything, has been the most rewarding part of it all.

WW: Could you run through how an average day works for you?

KM: Depending on the day, I’m either on site at the pavilion or working from our office just outside Expo. Every day, around 250 people bring the space to life — stage managers, duty managers, technical crews, artist liaisons, creative producers, wardrobe teams. It’s a small city behind the scenes, all moving in rhythm to make the magic happen. Back-of-house, it’s a world of organised chaos. The spaces are tight, the schedules relentless, and yet somehow it all comes together. There’s a constant dance — juggling people, performances, equipment, emotions. What I’ve learned is that scale doesn’t always come from size; it comes from coordination, trust, and an incredible amount of teamwork. You start to see how every role, no matter how small it seems, contributes to something much bigger. The most ambitious programmes are made possible not by grandeur, but by people — the ones who adapt, improvise, and find solutions in spaces barely big enough to turn around. That’s where the real artistry lives.

WW: Working in Osaka and Dubai must mean a lot of time away from home. How have you found the experience of traveling for work and being part of such an international environment?

KM: You do get used to it, eventually. It’s been about fifteen years for me now ‘on the road’, and in that time I’ve been away more often than I’ve been home. Working in this kind of international environment means you build what I can only describe as a global family. You form deep bonds with people who understand the rhythm of this life; the long hours, the constant travel, the creative intensity. But the hardest part comes when you decide it’s time to go home. I tried that two years ago and realised something unexpected: home had shifted. All my closest friends, my chosen family, were scattered across the world. It’s a strange kind of belonging, one that stretches across continents and time zones. What I’ve learned is that this life teaches you resilience and connection in equal measure. You learn how to carry pieces of people and places with you wherever you go, and that, in its own way, becomes home.

WW: Managing multiple teams is a huge part of what you do. How do you keep everyone motivated, aligned, feeling part of the bigger picture?

KM: Leadership, for me, has always been about presence — leading by example, acknowledging mistakes, and staying open to conversation. It’s never just about delivering the work; it’s about how people feel while they’re doing it. That sense of care and connection is what sustains a team, especially in the kind of high-pressure environment we’re in now. This project has been one of the most challenging of my career. Part of that comes from being in Japan, where working conditions can feel quite isolating when you’re far from home. Everyone is on different shifts and schedules, with no shared weekend or downtime — it’s seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day. Creating a sense of community in that environment takes real intention.

What has made all the difference is the leadership support I’ve received from THA and BLKK. Their trust, communication, and ongoing encouragement has given me the space and confidence to lead my own team effectively. Knowing that I’m supported from the top allows me to focus on supporting others — to keep morale strong, listen when people are struggling, and make sure every individual feels seen and valued. Same as my relationship with Wonder Works in Expo 2020 Dubai.

We hold an “all-hands” meeting every week, which has become a lifeline for everyone — a chance to reconnect, share updates, and remind ourselves that we’re all part of something bigger. Seeing the intricacies of one another’s’ work, gives comfort to everyone that we are all marching to the same beat, and my role as the conductor of this massive symphony is solely to make people feel valued and appreciated.

In many ways, this project has reinforced what good leadership really looks like: it’s not about hierarchy or control, but about mutual support. The same way my Leadership team supports me by giving me space to shine, I also adopt that principle in the way I lead my Team.

WW: You’ve collaborated with teams from so many different cultures. What have you learned about working across cultures?

KM: Listening is everything. It’s the single most important skill when you’re working across cultures. You can’t assume that the way you’re used to doing things will translate everywhere, and learning that takes time. I don’t always get it right, but I’ve come to see that admitting when you get it wrong is half the battle.

Here in Japan, that lesson has taken on a whole new depth. Our team includes around 25 trilingual staff members who move seamlessly between Japanese, Arabic, and English. Communication is a constant exercise in patience and clarity, and yes, Google Translate has become part of our daily toolkit. Japanese is the dominant language here, unlike Dubai, where English tends to lead because of the expat culture. That difference alone changes how we plan, collaborate, and lead.

But it goes far beyond language. It’s also about understanding how relationships and businesses are built. In Japan, you can’t just launch an event overnight. Building a partnership takes time, often months of conversations, shared meals, and quiet gestures of trust before a contractor will even agree to work with you. There’s a formality to it, a deep respect for Process.

In Dubai, you might be able to call a crew company and have seven new team members on site the next morning. Here, everything is more permanent. When someone falls ill or needs time off, you can’t simply bring in a freelancer. Instead, leadership steps in to fill the gaps. Producers take on backstage work, managers handle technical setups – everyone does what’s needed to keep things moving. It’s a completely different rhythm, one that demands flexibility, humility, and empathy. The greatest lesson for me has been that leadership isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about listening carefully, adapting constantly, and leading with understanding, no matter what language you’re speaking.

WW: What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

KM: “You always want to achieve gold, but sometimes silver and bronze are okay.” That piece of advice was given to me many years ago, and it has stayed with me ever since. In this industry, we tend to be overachievers, constantly reaching for perfection. But knowing when to stop, when to say that something is good enough, can be just as important as striving for excellence. It’s a reminder that balance matters just as much as ambition.

I’ve also learned how vital it is to speak up before you can’t. On a project like this, with long lead times and so many moving parts, it’s essential to recognise when something might be heading off track. You have to notice the small signs, read between the lines, and raise potential issues early enough to prevent them from becoming real problems later on. Anticipating challenges before they surface is one of the quiet skills that keeps a complex project running smoothly.

WW: What’s next for you?

KM: I’ve always enjoyed being on the client side, and that’s where I ultimately see myself returning. Over the years, especially through my experience working on multiple Expos, I’ve learned a great deal about what it takes to deliver complex, large-scale projects. From the operations of major venues to the coordination of diverse teams and the expectations of international stakeholders, those lessons have shaped how I approach every new challenge. I believe those insights can be applied far beyond Expos. My goal is to support organisers and end clients in understanding the intricacies of these kinds of undertakings and to help them avoid the common mistakes that many make simply because they haven’t done it before. I want to take on more of an advisory role, consulting and guiding others to deliver better, more efficient, and more meaningful outcomes.

If the opportunity arose, I would be proud to support the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and other countries as they continue to develop new industries and large-scale initiatives. The Kingdom, in particular, is in an extraordinary period of growth, and there is so much potential to strengthen the systems, leadership structures, and collaborative frameworks that underpin that progress.

For me, the focus has always been on making a difference. I don’t want to repeat what I’ve already done or move backwards. I want to use what I’ve learned to contribute to something lasting, to help shape projects and institutions that create real impact long after the spotlight has moved on.