I have got used to a scene that has been repeated in wildly different places all over the UK. Close to the centre of a town or city, there will be a construction project, centred on the delivery of brand new apartments. The air will be filled with the loud clanking of machinery; a hastily finished show flat might offer a glimpse of what is to come.
I have developed an unexpected addiction to these places, always photographing the hoardings that hide building work from passersby, which usually feature ecstatic thirtysomethings drinking coffee and relaxing in upmarket domestic environments (they are usually accompanied by slogans like “live, work, relax, dream”). And I have come to expect a kind of encounter that goes straight to the heart of one of our biggest national problems. Up will walk a member of the public, looking sceptically at what is under way. Their words may vary but the basic message is always the same: “Who’s this for? Not me.”
