By Laura Gomez
HAVANA TIMES – According to Francisco García Permuy, 83 years old, he began his career at Circuba International, where he was known as the magician LEFRANK and performed on national and international stages.
Our meeting was casual. The man, not the magician, was heading to the dining room of the Family Care System and asked me for help because one of the wheels on his chair had broken.
While I moved him, he mentioned that he travels the same blocks every day and doesn’t always find people to assist him. He soon told me he was a magician and gave me his address to visit him.
It was an interesting conversation; at times, dates and events were recounted as if I already knew his whole life. Were they memories or imagination? With a magician, you never know, but I could certainly confirm the precarious reality he lives today.
How did you learn you liked the secret of magic?
Since I was a child, I was always very resourceful and innovative. Among my six siblings, I was the only one who felt curious. I imagined myself in the circus doing tricks with coins and cards, amazing the children. When I turned 15, most young people were fighting in one way or another against Batista’s tyranny, and my brothers were part of a brigade to support the struggle. My parents didn’t want me to join the protests, perhaps because they saw me as too distracted.
When the revolution triumphed, one of my brothers got me a job delivering confidential documents across the country. It was a very exhausting job; even so, I fantasized about the moment I could dedicate time to magic. Later, I went to work in one of the departments of the Ministry of Agriculture.
What work did you do there?
The main focus was on volunteer work and political activities. They set up a space for me, which allowed me to pursue my fantasies: I began to make wands and rustic magic boxes. I performed tricks with playing cards: the 21 cards, the magic blow, and the secret card. I would stay in the room with the door closed, and thanks to that preparation time, I was able to improve on my own. When we scheduled a political or cultural event at the theater, I would close with my magic acts, and it was a lot of fun.
How did the workers get involved in the activities?
The call for volunteer work was massive. They performed cleaning tasks in green areas, decorated the center’s hallways, and created a welcoming atmosphere. It was a social task that contributed to the union organization. Volunteer work was promoted by Che Guevara in 1959 and was of great importance in our country.
When did you start dedicating yourself to magic?
A colleague, after seeing my performance at the center’s theater, suggested that I present myself at Circuba. I didn’t think twice. Although I wasn’t professional, I was able to perform as an amateur. There, I met artists from Romania, Bulgaria, and Vietnam. I also socialized with Nancy Correa and Los Filipinos and had the opportunity to see the elephant Tana perform.
Thanks to my perseverance, discipline, and communication skills, I was recognized as a professional at Circuba. We didn’t have an academic school in Havana to study circus arts. I knew that in Santiago de Cuba, in the mid-sixties, Alberto Ramon Pujan founded a School of Magic in his home. It would have been very interesting to be one of his students, but the distance limited me. I alternated my job with Circuba in its early days until I decided to resign and dedicate myself entirely to the art.
Was socializing with the public difficult for you?
At first, yes, as is natural when someone faces a stage full of spectators. Over the years, I was able to create my resources to maintain my focus and play with the audience’s minds in a subtle way. The world of magic is wonderful, and I believe that the hands are the most important instrument; without speed and flexibility, it’s impossible for a trick to come off well.
What can you tell us about your experience at Circuba?
As a professional magician, I traveled all over the country and performed in Grenada and Bulgaria. I participated in the Intercircus, a tour that took place after the international Circuba festival. I also performed in social circles, in children’s activities in the neighborhoods of Havana, and at parties where I was hired.
Throughout my professional life, I received several awards and recognitions, such as the Raul Gomez Garcia medal and recognition from the magicians of the Siegfried and Roy century. I also received distinctions at the municipal and provincial levels with the attendance of cultural personalities like Armando Hart, Abel Prieto, and members of UNEAC, the organization of which I am a member.
Who do you live with?
I live alone. My family has passed away. The romantic relationships I had were not long-lasting; I spent a lot of time traveling, and I never had children. My house has six rooms, and I have magic equipment everywhere. I only use the living room and the bathroom. On the roof of the portal, there is a cage that was used for an act my colleague did with a lion, and it is destroying the ceiling.
People have come to propose a swap, but this is my property. For several years, I have walked around the house with the help of crutches. My ankle and knee are affected due to osteoarthritis. Thanks to the social worker, I can have lunch and eat at the Family Care System, and it is helpful, but the distance is too great, and the wheelchair I use is very worn out. Sometimes I encounter people in the street who give me money, and other times I ask them for some; then I buy a small pizza and return home. I don’t have the means to cook, not even a refrigerator.
So, do you still do magic?
Sometimes children come to the portal and ask me to teach them how to make a coin disappear, and I do it. Seeing their smiling faces is a gift. But I also do magic with the money ,1,600 pesos (US $5.00) a month I receive as assistance), magic with the fan that is on its last legs, with clothes that I often cannot wash. Magic to keep the ceiling from collapsing on me. Magic to stay alive.
Read more interviews here on Havana Times.
