It's crumbling to pieces, and no one will say who pays to fix it.
On the sun-drenched island of Tenerife, a celebrated architectural landmark slowly sheds its skin while the institutions responsible for its care remain entangled in disputes over money, blame, and authority. The Adán Martín Auditorium—designed by Santiago Calatrava and built at a cost that tripled its original budget—now faces a €24 million repair bill that no party has agreed to shoulder. Nearly three years into the current administration's mandate, the gap between political promise and public action has become as visible as the tiles falling from the building's facade.
- A beloved cultural landmark is literally disintegrating in public view, its signature exterior tiles peeling away while officials acknowledge the crisis without offering a single repair date.
- A €24 million restoration estimate—already likely to grow with inflation—hangs in legal limbo as the original architect, contractors, and public institutions each resist accepting financial responsibility.
- The technical project took 19 months to complete and required a separate firm to modify Calatrava's design after the architect declined to lead the work, yet its contents remain hidden from opposition parties.
- A judicial recommendation to pursue settlement with contractors has produced no agreement, leaving the funding question unresolved and the restoration timeline undefined.
- Thirty-one months into the governing mandate, opposition voices are documenting a pattern of exclusion—no shared documents, no disclosed meetings, no replaced tiles—as cultural programming hangs in uncertainty.
The Adán Martín Auditorium in Tenerife has been visibly deteriorating for years. Its iconic trencadís exterior tiles have been peeling away long enough that the island's own president described the situation bluntly in 2024: the building is crumbling. Last Friday, the island council's finance director appeared before a plenary session, acknowledged the complexity of the problem, and offered neither a timeline nor a clear answer on who would pay to fix it.
The financial history of the auditorium is itself a cautionary tale. An original budget of €24 million swelled to €75 million during construction roughly 27 years ago. A new assessment has returned to that same €24 million figure—though inflation will almost certainly push it higher. Architect Santiago Calatrava blames the contractors for the deterioration. A judge has suggested the parties negotiate a settlement. No settlement has been reached.
When the current administration took office, its president pledged to accelerate the reform and restore what she called an emblem of the island. That was over two years ago. The opposition formally requested the technical project in early 2025, after Calatrava missed his own November 2024 delivery deadline. A specialized firm was eventually brought in to revise his design, and by January of this year the project was declared complete—though it has still not been shared with opposition parties.
The plenary session meant to clarify the path forward instead multiplied the open questions: when will construction begin, will the auditorium need to close entirely, what becomes of its cultural programming, and who ultimately pays if costs rise again? The Socialist opposition noted that 31 months have passed under the current mandate without a single tile being replaced, and that opposition parties have been excluded from meetings and kept in the dark on decisions. The auditorium continues to deteriorate. The plan, if there is one, remains invisible to the public.
The Adán Martín Auditorium in Tenerife has been falling apart for years. Its distinctive exterior tiles—the trencadís that made it an architectural landmark—have been peeling away visibly for so long that the island's president, Rosa Dávila, summed up the problem in 2024 with a blunt phrase: it's crumbling to pieces. Last Friday, the island council's finance director, Juan Carlos Pérez Frías, stood before the plenary session and acknowledged the "complexity" of fixing it. He offered no timeline for when work would begin. He offered no clarity on who would pay.
The numbers alone tell a story of dysfunction. The auditorium was originally budgeted at 24 million euros when the project began roughly 27 years ago. It ballooned to 75 million. Now, after a fresh assessment, the estimate has returned to 24 million—though that figure will almost certainly climb once inflation is factored in. The question of who bears that cost has become a legal matter. The architect, Santiago Calatrava, blames the contractors. The contractors presumably blame someone else. A judge has recommended the parties try to reach a settlement, but no settlement has materialized.
When Dávila took office, she promised to accelerate the reform and restore what she called an "emblem" of Tenerife. That was more than two years ago. In January 2025, the opposition formally requested the technical project—the detailed blueprint for the work. Calatrava had promised to deliver it in November 2024. He did not. Instead, a specialized firm was brought in to modify his design. By January of this year, Pérez Frías said, the project was finally ready. He did not say ready to share. The opposition still has not seen it.
What Pérez Frías did confirm is that the technical work is essentially complete after 19 months of negotiation and revision. The next step is to appoint a project director—a role Calatrava has declined. After that comes the attempt to negotiate with the contractors, as the judge suggested. But the plenary session that was supposed to clarify the path forward instead raised more questions. When will the project be formally presented? When will construction actually begin? Will the auditorium have to close entirely, or only partially? For how long? What happens to the cultural programming during the work? And most pressingly: if the cost climbs again, will Tenerife's taxpayers foot the bill?
Aarón Afonso, the Socialist opposition spokesman, pointed out that the government has spent a full year without sharing the project or even informing opposition parties of meetings and decisions. More strikingly, he noted that 31 months have now passed since the current administration took office—nearly three years—and not a single tile has been replaced. The auditorium continues to deteriorate. The promises continue to slip. And the public still does not know what the actual plan is, or what it will cost them.
Notable Quotes
The auditorium is crumbling to pieces— Rosa Dávila, island president, 2024
The government has spent a full year without sharing the project or informing opposition parties of meetings and decisions— Aarón Afonso, Socialist opposition spokesman
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does a building repair project need a judge involved?
Because no one agrees who caused the damage. Calatrava designed it, contractors built it, and now the tiles are failing. Each side blames the other, so the cost responsibility is stuck in court.
But the government is in charge. Can't they just decide and move forward?
In theory, yes. But if they pay for something the contractors should pay for, they're essentially admitting liability or throwing money away. The judge recommended they negotiate instead of litigate, which is cheaper—but negotiating takes time, and time is what they've been wasting.
The opposition says the project wasn't even shared. Why keep it secret?
That's the real puzzle. The government says it's still being refined, but a year is a long time to refine something. It looks more like they're avoiding accountability—if no one sees the plan, no one can criticize it.
What happens to the auditorium in the meantime?
It keeps falling apart. The tiles keep peeling. The building is still being used for performances, but it's deteriorating. Eventually something will have to give—either they'll have to close it, or it will close itself.
And the public just waits?
The public waits, and pays taxes. If the cost overruns again, those taxes will likely cover it. That's what happened before.