Many of my American friends feel claustrophobic in Parisian hotels — it’s too tight, too hot. They completely miss the idea of boudoir! It has to be tight, it has to be hot, especially when outside it it is not. Sometimes before taking a leak, there is a bit of choreography one needs to follow: open the door, take a step to the right of the toilet bowl, turn around, and close it. Then take half a step back to the closed door, and slipping between the door and the toilet, finally sit down, pretty much the same way the heroine of Bouche’s painting does it. If you don’t appreciate the experience, you will probably not understand rococo, for it has been noticed that the distinguishing feature of the movement is the movement into the interior, into what constitutes everything that is private and intimate; and so, the very idea is situated between the two screens, between the two doors, next to the open fireplace and the inner thighs — in a word, the interstices — all that is tight, hot, soft, and fuzzy.
To see the original painting, you need to hurry to the Louvre: It is there till January, 11th at the exhibition titled A Swede in the XVIII Century Paris.