In the picture of the English artist “Factory in London” we see the building and the yard of the old factory. Written in gray-green tones, the landscape produces a rather dull impression. Above the edge of the brick wall are scattered glass shards, so that the territory of the factory could not get strangers. In the courtyard no one can see, only in the windows here and there are small figures of people.
There, inside the building everything goes on as usual – the machines work, giving out the finished products to the conveyor, the knuckles count the profits on the accounts. Involuntarily comes to mind a comparison with a machine, blind and soulless, which in the crash of its mechanisms does not notice how grinds the health and life of the people working on it. Every day they come here to work from morning till evening, not noticing that they have forgotten how to smile, that youth is leaving and a dull old factory, like the factory itself, comes.
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