by Carlos Garza

Two streets south of Cesar Chavez and just west of Interstate 35, a half-empty lot with a warehouse and a pair of ramshackle, mostly abandoned office buildings has found its way onto Austin's cultural map. Still two years away from its long-overdue $10.9 million makeover into Austin's world-class Center for Mexican-American Cultural Arts, 600 River Street is even now a hub of activity, despite the constant lack of funds endemic to most non-profit arts organization. That it has already begun to provide a space for Latinos in the performing and visual arts testifies to the dedication of the handful of people who finally got the center off the ground.

Of course, considerably more than a handful have contributed their time and effort over the 20 years that the project has been in the works; but busy with their careers, none in the past have been able to devote themselves full-time or stick with it for the requisite year-after-year of paperwork, phone calls, and board meetings.

In 1995, Tomás Salas moved back to Austin after four years in California with El Teatro Campesino (ETC), the nation's most established and historically significant Latino theater group. ETC was established by Luis Valdez as an organizing tool for Cesar Chavez's United Farm Workers. Not surprisingly, Salas considers his time with ETC as a seminal experience responsible for heightening his indignation at the comparative state of Latino theater in Austin. In trying to form his own company with his brother, Salas' major setback was not only finding affordable venues in which to rehears and perform, but dealing with what he perseived as indifference and lack of consideration for members of the Austin Latino arts community.

Using a theater which houses its own resident company is replete with inherent limitations for a production, but in one case, when Salas paid $1,200 for a Monday night performance, he arrived at noon to find technicians building a set for another production. Apparently not informed that the stage was rented for the day, they asked Salas if the actors could just work around them until the show. Trying another approach, the company hooked up with a fledgling theater in the midst of converting a warehouse space. In exchange for labor (plumbing, electricity, bathrooms, seating platforms), the theater agreed to provide Salas' group free rehearsal and performance time, only to cancel their show in the middle of its run. They receiving a tempting (read: better paying) rental offer from another company.

Salas and his colleagues eventually realized that they simply would not be a viable company until they could claim their own space.

"After hearing similar stories from other Latino groups I knew there was just no way around it. As long as we continued to perform in places that weren't Latino-owned, we would continue to be treated like the unwelcome stepchild."

Salas inquired about the status of the Mexican-American Cultural Center project and decided to get himself appointed to the task force created by city council, joining other members Cathy Vazquez, Roén Salinas, Delia Perez Mayor, Savino Renteria, Rodney Garza, and Sylvia Orozco. At the time, the main priority was extending the city's soon-to-expire five-year ordinance designating River Street as a future site for the cultural center.

Serving as the Street and Bridge Maintenance and Erosion/Stormwater Control Yard, the site had been chosen by a consulting firm and officially designated for the CMACA in the early 1990s. With the ordinance renewed indefinitely, Salas discovered an additional $50,000 formerly earmarked for the Center and succeeded in having it allocated to the task force. With these funds he filed for non-profit status, budgeted a salary for himself, and went about finding other funding sources.

Since then, Salas has served as the Center's only full-time staff member. He quickly convinced the welder on the lot (who he knew from high school) to allow his warehouse to double as a theater space.

For CMACA's first production, Salas directed his version of "La Pastorella," which follows in the Native-American tradition of revamping the Biblical shepherd's story with dance, comedy, and plenty of flamboyant, indigenous costumes and masks. To stay true to the spirit of quiet resistance and constant adaptation to sensibilities and realties of the group and time, "La Pastorella" often incorporates current Latino issues in a light-hearted manner; in last year's production devils sent to lure Mary and Joseph from Bethlehem and the path of virtue are real estate developers and angels represent displaced communities. Salas put on a decidedly Southern version the first year by using gospel and folk music. In its various incarnations,"La Pastorella" will most likely remain the Center's main staple.

On June 15th, the city signed the final contract with head architect Teodoro Gonzalez de León. An internationally respected architech, de León is responsible for half a century's worth of landmark buildings, amoung them the Rufino Tamayo Museum and the Criminal Justice Center in Mexico City.

In addition to performance spaces, CMACA plans on developing an education curriculum that includes visual art, theater, dance, literature, music, multi-media, stage and lighting design, and even culinary arts. Since it has committed to financial independence, the Center also aims to create revenue generators such as a restaurant and book shop.

Since the City relocated all of the lot's former occupants, Salas now is concentrating on improving existing facilitiest. In the warehouse, the floor has been painted a bright red-orange, the walls lined with black felt, and sound and lighting equipment installed. Since the last "La Pastorella," the Center put on an average of three shows a month, including Dance Umbrella's production of "Buto," the Cine Las Americas Film Festival, and People's Power Celebration (a coalition of UT activist groups).

Oddly enough, for someone who devoted five grueling years to the CMACA, Salas wants no part in running the Center once it is fully established. He would rather be among the many community artists to put on shows there in the future.

"From the beginning, I've made it clear that I don't want to be the permanent director of the Center. My dream has always been to make sure our Latino community has access to state-of-the-art facilities for any kind of cultural activity...because the fact is, we've always had to settle for run-down or outdated spaces and equipment. My main concern for now, and the next two years, is keeping the Center as busy as possible, letting everyone know we're already up and running, and making sure that even though we're available for shows like Japanese "Buto" once in a while, our main priority remains to provide a venue for the Latino arts community."