Several hundred volunteers stripped off, were painted head to toe in the colours of the rainbow, and lay down together in a central square of Las Palmas de Gran Canaria — the capital of Gran Canaria, one of Spain's Canary Islands — to form a living Pride flag for the American photographer Spencer Tunick.

The installation took place on 26 July 2026 at Santa Ana Square (Plaza de Santa Ana), directly in front of the Gran Canaria Cathedral, a centuries-old Gothic-Renaissance church that dominates the plaza. Participants, entirely nude and coated in individual hues of red, orange, yellow, green, blue and violet, arranged themselves so that viewed from above their bodies composed the six-band rainbow flag that has served as a symbol of LGBTQ+ Pride since the late 1970s. (ARTnews; Reuters Connect)

Tunick, known for more than three decades of large-scale nude installations staged in public spaces from New York City's Times Square to the Aletsch Glacier in Switzerland, called the work the first LGBTQ+ human flag of his career, according to his official Instagram profile. The event was timed to coincide with Pride celebrations on the island. (ARTnews)

Gran Canaria has long been a destination for LGBTQ+ tourism, and the island's Pride festivities draw visitors from across Europe. The choice of a cathedral square as the staging ground gave the installation a particular charge, placing naked, rainbow-painted bodies against the backdrop of a major place of Catholic worship. (InfoVaticana)

Tunick's method has changed little over the years: he recruits volunteers through social media and local press, secures municipal permits, arrives before dawn, and works quickly while the light and the crowd hold. Participants bring nothing but themselves; the artist and a small team handle the body paint and the choreography of where each person lies. The resulting photograph is the artwork — the physical gathering is a means to that single, captured image.

No price, edition size or exhibition plans for the resulting photograph have been announced. What is certain is that on a July morning, several hundred people chose to stand — and then lie — bare in a cathedral square, painted in the colours of Pride, in service of a picture that will outlast the morning.