The buildings stand painted in motley – fair, auburn and white – as the curtain in rises on the Tenerife playset. Large hard-black railings protect them from ‘undesirable’ as the balconies exude pretention towards an apathetic cobalt ocean. The sun – our spotlight – disregards the seasons of the outside world and gleams relentlessly on our would-be players in their affordable ivory towers.
But, we don’t need to look far for the props to show and backstage looms at the edge of every corner. A cockroach scuttles under a buzzered gate and we follow him backstage and peer upwards at the prop houses.
The panopticonic eye looms over the streetscape, simultaneously recording and judging the every move of the unfazed masses. Thecamera stands like a moral voyeur ready to pounce on the first sign of civil disobedience. The tagline ‘we’re watching out for you’ plastered across posters and signs. The strategically placed ‘out for’ carefully injected to pacify the historically-forgetful public. Are we to feel placated by the false sense of security? Relieved by Big Brother’s more gentle politically correct rejuvenation? Or do we simply have more pressing issues then our lost sense of privacy?