On Insurgentes Avenue, in southern Mexico City, a twenty-story tower stands and halves the horizon, made of concrete and metal sheets. This building is guarded like a fortress: to get in it is necessary to go through several security checkpoints, followed by a pair of heavy elevators. Upon stepping out of the elevator, each floor, identical to the previous one, spreads like a labyrinth of cubicles and non-descript desks, framed by a corridor that crosses the space on one side. There’s a row of offices with closed doors, all identical. Each floor in this building resembles a mirror device where a single piece of furniture is reflected and multiplied infinitely. The employees occupying each cubicle are mesmerized in their computer screens, and only look up to see me walking by, to lower their gaze towards the screens again. Their fleeting gestures signal a disturbance in the order of a place dominated by silence, the phones’ ringtone, and the sound of dozens of keyboards typed on in unison. [...]
Building
in ENCYCLOPEDIA