Theater gave Argos MacCallum a purpose. In return, he uses the art form — to which he was introduced as a young boy — to preserve culture, tradition, and language via Teatro Paraguas, a bilingual ensemble that presented six productions in 2007 (on a total budget of $20,000). Born in Ithaca, New York, MacCallum has lived in New Mexico since he was 5. He got into acting in his early teens, though a brief stint at college (University of California — he dropped out) and a year hitchhiking around America interrupted his artistic journey.

The actor, director, and all-around theater hand, who has lived in Santa Fe for 40 years, spoke with Pasatiempo before the first rehearsal for the company's next show — New Mexico playwright Patricia Crespin's We Are Hispanic-American Women! ... Okay?, which opens on February 27 at El Museo Cultural de Santa Fe.

Pasatiempo: Your mother, Cather, was a poet, playwright, and actress. Was she the one who got you into theater?

Argos MacCallum: When she was four months pregnant she played Puck in the University of Richmond's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. So I was onstage before I was born. When I was 4 or 5, she'd pull me into the theater day after day, put me in the back row during rehearsal, and say, "You be quiet or I'll give you a smack."

Pasa: Did you ever get smacked?

MacCallum: No. There was always a magic in theater for me. But she wrote, acted, directed, taught, and later did PR at the Santa Fe Opera in the late 1960s. She did everything that was possible to make a living in theater — which is never easy.

Pasa: What's your earliest memory of acting?

MacCallum: I was 14. I played the boy in Waiting for Godot at the San Francisco Playhouse in 1966. My mother had a playwriting fellowship at San Francisco State University; that's why we were there. Later I played the son of an Appalachian backwoodsman who is the caretaker of the Countess of Tappahannock's estate in my mother's play Tapestry People.

Pasa: Did you know you wanted to be an actor then?

MaCallum: In the seventh grade I wanted to be a veterinarian. That's the only other thing I've wanted to be other than an actor.

Pasa: How did you get involved in theater in Santa Fe?

MacCallum: Cather wrote a review of King Henry IV, Part I at the Theater of All Possibilities, which had established itself in the Lone Butte area on the Synergia Ranch in the late 1960s. I was at a loose end: I had dropped out of college and moved back here. She took me to the play, and I was mesmerized. She went back to San Francisco to do an oral exam for her master's degree, and I joined the Theater of All Possibilities. This was 1970. The main troupe remained there until 1980; some of the original members are still on the property. We not only did theater, but craft enterprise: woodworking, furniture making — all part of the whole '60s "restore the land" experience. We concentrated on the classics: Oedipus Rex, Oedipus at Colonus, Prometheus Unbound, Agamemnon, and we also did a lot of Brecht. But by '75, the main body of the troupe was doing a lot of touring, so those of us still here started an acting ensemble called Studio 2.

Pasa: It seems you were self-taught in theater.

MacCallum: In theater, yes — I trained with the Theater of All Possibilities. They borrowed heavily from dance dramas of Asia — it was very physical theater. I've had to unlearn a lot of that. After Kent State [massacre] and the bombing of Cambodia, I wanted to drop out of society entirely and join some guerrilla group somewhere. Instead I joined the Theater of All Possibilities!

Pasa: It sounds like theater was your savior.

MacCallum: Yeah. Yeah. I can't imagine life without theater. At a point when I felt I had nothing left but extreme options, theater gave me a direction.

Pasa: Did people drive out to Lone Butte to see these plays? That's an out-of-the-way venue.

MacCallum: A fair number of people would come to Synergia, including people from Cerrillos and Madrid. The venue situation here has always been difficult. At that time there was the Armory [for the Arts] and the Santa Fe Playhouse. We also performed at the Project Tibet space, the folk art museum, St. Francis Auditorium. At that time, there was even a performance space at the Inn of the Governors, downstairs below the bar. What is now Geronimo [on Canyon Road] was the Three Cities of Spain, a restaurant and venue with live performances.

The town was much smaller then. There was more of a community feel. In a way the town was much more supportive of theater than it is now. I'm sure the scene was just as complicated then in terms of venue availability and trying to put a show together.

Pasa: You're known as a jack-of-all-trades theater artist. Is that one reason you seem to work all the time?

MacCallum: To me, specialization in theater is helping to kill it. Theater is a whole discipline. I don't understand directors who have never acted. They do it, but I find it inconceivable. Look at Shakespeare, touring with his troupe, everyone doing everything — the generalist approach is healthier, I think. In the Theater of All Possibilities, we had to sew our own costumes — I wasn't very good at that.

Pasa: When you look back at your career, are you able to honestly reflect on what worked and what didn't?

MacCallum: Yeah. The misses far outnumber the successes. That's part of the process. And it's another thing hurting theater in Santa Fe at the moment. So many people from so many different backgrounds — and with movies overshadowing theater more and more — are coming in, and everything is judged by some imported standard. I think the process is so vital. So many people say, "I don't go to theater here, because it's no good." I think that's a lazy, arrogant attitude. When one goes to theater, you have to be open to the experience. You have to surrender yourself to the piece, just as the directors and actors surrender themselves to it. If an ensemble honestly works and approaches the material with what they have to offer, there's no reason to judge them by an outside standard. If I can detect honesty coming from the stage it earns my respect. But each play is an all-out campaign to win over the audience.

The film industry is creating havoc in the theater scene here. Actors are afraid to commit to a play because they're waiting for that callback. A decade ago, you'd never hear of someone dropping out of a play to do a film. Now the number of plays that don't have a full cast the week of dress rehearsal is staggering. It's tough to cast over six roles. Plus we're facing tough economic times — a decade ago actors in town worked only one job, and now it's almost impossible to find someone not working two jobs here.

Pasa: You became artistic director of Teatro Paraguas in 2004.

MacCallum: I'm not exactly artistic director. We're trying to function as a colectiva — an ensemble. We've done 15 shows so far, and one reason for our relative success is that the ensemble can support an individual who wants to take on a particular project. We cover a broad range [of productions], celebrating the rich tradition of Hispanic theater and literature that goes back to the 1500s.

Pasa: Are Hispanic audiences responding?

MacCallum: Our audience is at least 40 percent Hispanic, and sometimes as high as 80 percent. It's still a tough sell in the sense that a lot of elements of Hispanic culture have been lost, so the aspect of going to theater isn't something that's still part of their experience. We're trying to bring that back. I think bilingual theater can create a bridge of understanding.

I'm not sure there's an audience for serious theater here. It seems more aimed at entertainment — inane comedies attract the most audiences here. Maybe that's a sign of the times. Musicals are popular too, but they're almost impossible for anyone to stage because of the cost. So I think we're in a very difficult situation at this moment. What happens — and you can go back to Steven Schwartz, who founded Shakespeare in the Park as a company made up of local actors — is a lot of companies adopt a marketing model, a business model, and that's always the beginning of the end. Over the years, I've seen too many examples of companies meeting their demise or getting set back when well-intentioned business models are introduced. Because as soon as you introduce money, you need more.

Pasa: What, then, is your definition of a professional theater artist? Is it someone who earns a living at it? Or someone who dedicates himself to it full time regardless of pay?

MacCallum: I like that last definition best. It's the reason I call myself a professional. In 2006, I was involved in 16 theater productions. In 2007, about 12, and in 2008, 10. Some jobs pay, some don't. Most don't.

Pasa: So how do you make a living?

MacCallum: I'm beginning to wonder. I'm a freelance theater technician, but even that's becoming — I'm having to rethink that. I'm very lucky in the sense that I own property and built my own house.

Pasa: What's your feeling about the future of theater in Santa Fe?

MacCallum: Theater is in for some big changes in this town this year, especially with the economic meltdown. I would not be surprised if we lose some companies. But there are still new people showing up and hoping to do theater in this town, which is a good sign. Mark Siciliani is trying to put together an Equity company of actors who would pay dues, workshopping productions toward a public performance. The College of Santa Fe has been hugely important to this town in terms of theater. I've worked [as scene shop manager] on 17 or 18 shows there, and I always felt the level of productions there and the dedication of the students was fabulous — and there seems to have been a tradition of students sticking around after graduation to start up a company or at least work in the community. Teatro Paraguas has had at least 10 students working with us as actors or technicians.

Pasa: So why do theater at all? Why do you do it?

MacCallum: Theater is like our collective dream. It's a way — for me, anyway — to continually explore the human spirit, the human make-up, including all the contradictions.
You know, I still have incredible stage fright. But when I'm shaking in the wings, I know that I'm alive.