I suppose it's anywhere you go, the madness and the last-minute nature of things. Anywhere you go something goes wrong on opening day, Cambodia or New York or Paris. However, add in all that and mix with cultural and language differences, and you get quite a mess.
The one problem with the arts scene in Cambodia is the lack of venues, for performance and for rehearsal. The only "western" style professional theater is Chenla, which is kind of on the outskirts of town. I don't know the rates for that, but probably fairly expensive. But aside from that, it leaves few options.
I was asked by a friend to perform for the year-end school of the new ballet school in town (my friend runs it), and immediately agreed (especially seeing as I wasn't being recruited for a ballet, but a contemporary piece.) The piece ended up being a 15 minute duet (including a five minute solo) with a lovely Scottish woman, and it's been incredibly nice to have some time to just do what someone else tells me to do instead of the madness of creating, producing, and etc.
The evening was rounded out by a one-act ballet provincial style, with bales of hay and all the other various props that go in ballet-ballets (so much ballet...), including a posse of ten or so kids to hop in a circle at various intervals, and a community outreach contemporary piece, performed by eight Khmer students. My friend is determined to put together a professional school and not just the place you send your kids to fluff about for awhile, and he's doing a pretty good job of it. He has a real passion for teaching and it comes through.
He rented a theater called "the Department of Performing Arts." I am not sure if classes take place there or really what it is for, but it is hidden back amongst the houses around it and you have to be looking to find the alley way that leads to it, a large, somewhat oddly shaped building with stairs unnecessarily wrapping around it. It looks big, but isn't particularly, seating 150. The stage is a decent size, but there are no dressing rooms or backstage areas. The bathrooms are downstairs and you have to go outside to find them. Mirrors for makeup don't seem to exist anywhere. The stage is wood and nails creep up here and there.
In addition, nobody bothered to tell us that while we could be in the space all day, if you run the lights that long they burn out, and halfway through the afternoon all the dimmers blew, leaving us with access to the four mains onstage and the bank of spots in the front of the house. The only way to turn them on and off was by unplugging and plugging the cables. On or off, no in between, and the production staff decided to blame us for using the lights so long.
That pushed the rehearsals back, the hair and makeup people were running late, the people coming to do the hair for the community piece were late, the film crew turned up two hours late, and with my friend overwhelmed and running around, it was left up to me and my duet partner to warm up the kids.
I don't know how to warm up a bunch of seven year olds, but nevertheless, we played some silly games. They ran around. I taught them a bit of Thriller. They got bored. We stretched, they were even more bored. But we'd wasted ten or fifteen minutes and they pronounced themselves ready to dance.
A word about the kids -- all expat kids, their parents here for work. French, British, American, earnest and adorable, asking endless questions and adoring the older dancers, their hair in two french braids and little dresses (the one boy in green trousers and a white shirt). They were all me, fifteen years ago. I could see it so clearly, their parents helping with the show like parents do anywhere. Only in Cambodia. It's just where they live, nothing special. Back in America, they say, it was like this, but I don't know here.
It was such a mind-twist for me, to see myself as I was fifteen years ago, the little ballerina girl with the blond hair and hamming it up, but here, in Cambodia, in this somewhat rickity, imperfect theater.
The show sold out. They had to turn people away. Everyone had a good time, the lights didn't look awful, and no one was any the wiser. I didn't overbalance on the tilt. The kids were great. The community piece looked beautiful in a shadowy light, with their white costumes and crazy hair.
I guess, wherever you are, the show must go on.
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