Turner is a British artist, impressionist, and partly a novelist, whose paintings often trace the theme of man’s powerlessness and imperfection, written without bitterness or contempt, but, on the contrary, with sincere love or sly irony.
A man among the world is small, a man can hardly do anything when the wind of change carries him like a feather from event to event. But he remains a man, a thing in himself, a person, in the end. Turner preferred to historical genre, landscapes and rare genre scenes.
“Salon” is one of his rare paintings, which depicts people not in nature, but in the world that they created for themselves. This explains the somewhat uncharacteristic style of painting – compared to the crystal clear, quivering landscapes, the Salon is written deliberately rough, vague, so that it is impossible not to see a single person, you can only guess the vague shadows in a vague environment. A woman sprawled in a chair with a face like a sheep’s face. Someone resembling a walrus, spread on the sofa.
Three more women at a small round table, all without faces, all vague and indistinct. People indulge in rest and talk about nothing – and in this they seem to blur, becoming boring and empty, without distinctive features and memorable features. All of them with their hairstyles, with their restless hands, with their lack of meaning, are tired of empty talk and silly chirping. All of them do not understand why they came here, but they diligently hide this misunderstanding and pretend to be absorbed in the evening.
“Salon” ridicules idlers and talkers, at the same time sympathizing with them – their life is so empty that even their faces cannot be distinguished. And those who come out of the salon will not remember tomorrow what they said, what they wanted, who they discussed. All this is unimportant and was discussed just so that at least somehow pretend that life has meaning.