Christina Bothwell

Night Journey, 2020

cast glass/clay/paint
13 x 25 x 8 in

Christina Bothwell works within the realm of the eternal, inspired by the rhythm and motion of all things created – focusing in on the cycle of birth, life, death, and regeneration. With a sensitivity to life both within and beyond the veil of materiality, Bothwell shares with us her understanding of life as a constant cycle of endings and new beginnings, “something to let go of and grieve the loss of, and a new cycle to marvel over.”[1] Bothwells’s descriptions of her subjects, babies, animals, and children as “embodying the essence of vulnerability” [2] - reveals the underlying theme of her work:  a true questioning of our implicit innocence and susceptibility within the inescapable process of transformation.

Simian Dreams, 2021

cast glass/clay/oil paint
17 x 20.5 x 8.5 in

Bothwell understands us as “energy beings” that “do not end with the confines or edges of our physical bodies;” rather, that “we are connected to one another and to all of life – we are a part of our ecosystem.”[1]  She imagines that there can be no place in this realm that isn’t lined with the energy emitting from God, and all such realms sustain an ongoing awareness of this spiritual Presence that is woven throughout all form. Presence is all pervasive, animating the material realm in a show of inexplicable phenomena that challenges the rationalism our society tends to hang truth on. Yet, Bothwell has been privy to these more mysterious phenomena since childhood. She recounts how at three or four years old, she could sense what her pets were feeling as well as knowing when someone was going to die; sharing that this awareness stemmed from a feeling that they were going away and that she would not see their form, piecing together a material representation of the concept of dying through this awareness. These subliminal connections to the cosmic web were not celebrated within her home, leading her parents to discredit her sensitivity, writing off her awareness as lies, and becoming increasingly upset when deaths came to pass soon after her predictions. Despite her parent’s enmity to her gifts, Bothwell’s awareness of the cyclical nature of transformation was finely attuned from a young age and continued to ripen.  

Evolution is a State of Mind, 2008

Cast Glass, Ceramic, Antique Claw Ball Feet
17 x 6 x 3 in

           One of the more interesting facets of metamorphosis, in the individual life, is the transmutation of one’s own mind. The cycles of psychological birth, death, and rebirth serve as an inescapable, ominous, yet enriching “disturbance” to the human condition. I use the word disturbance here, as to embody and enliven such transformation often comes from a disrupting of current conditioning –in turn, allowing for latent seeds to bloom within one’s own proverbial inner garden. In an artist profile, Bothwell mentions how she is “exploring metamorphosis as a topic and [has] been incorporating figures within figures in my pieces. Within each glass figure there is a smaller figure seen through the surface of the glass. I think of these pieces as souls, each being pregnant with their own potential, giving birth to new, improved versions of themselves.”[4] Bothwell’s use of fogged glass sculptures creates an inner space, an inner incubation where light itself becomes pregnant with its own potential. As light move through her creations, the light undergoes a kind of transmutation, which emits an aura from within the object. These pieces carry Bothwell’s intuitive awareness of metamorphosis into the space they occupy; physical metaphors of the constant change undergone by all at any given moment.

Girl on bird, 2023

Cast glass, ceramic
6 × 8 × 4 in | 15.2 × 20.3 × 10.2 cm

            Connecting this cycle to our lived experience, Bothwell shared an incredible, intimate story of the birth of her first child. During her pregnancy, Bothwell recalls experiencing the feeling of life awaken inside, giving her “the impression of being a link in an endless chain of other mothers throughout time.” She had already lost three babies to miscarriages when she gave birth to her first daughter Sophie, recalling how ecstatic she felt bringing a baby to term. But during her delivery, her baby was no longer breathing, and she explained the frantic motions of trying to get the baby out of her while there was still hope of resuscitation. Without time for anesthesia, the surgeon had to start cutting her, telling her that the baby probably would not make it, and that she might not either. She remembers, in that moment, feeling that if only one of them could survive, she hoped it would be her baby. As Sophie was removed, they began CPR. At eighteen minutes (death is announced at twenty), the doctors found a pulse, and Sophie survived her ordeal. Bothwell shared that at age two, Sophie began talking about having died and coming back, sharing that she had to come back because they were so sad, she couldn’t bear it. Bothwell’s journey of giving birth proved to be one of birth, death, and revival, akin to regeneration or rebirth. Sophie’s journey to, from, and back to her form, and her musings on it as a toddler, is an interesting implication of interconnectedness. If energy were to be localized and isolated within a single body, how would Sophie have been able to feel the sorrow emanating from her parents some feet away? There must have been some immaterial link transmitting the impression, reaffirming Bothwell’s belief of us being energetic beings that, again, “do not end with the confines or edges of our physical bodies,” but are rather enmeshed in a radiant cosmic ecosystem that binds all beings in a complex web of interconnection.

Going with the Flow, 2022

Cast glass, ceramic, hand painted detail
6 1/4 × 21 × 13 in | 15.9 × 53.3 × 33 cm

         This embodied dance between the material and otherworldly is exemplified by Bothwell’s piece, Going with the Flow, 2022. Bothwell created a hybrid of a young girl’s head and an octopus’s tentacles. The head is fashioned of ceramic, and soft features frame the closed eyes, suggesting a blissful harmony and unity with all that is. The density of the head is a curious metaphor, a permeance that is fixed yet emanates a sense of ease and bliss. A harmonization arises as the head is guided by undulating tentacles that lead our journey within the material realm, weaving gracefully through life’s current. The tentacles are fashioned of glass, tinted with the loveliest shades of purples and pinks, allowing light to pass through, contrasting the opaque ceramic head. Why is the almost transcendental look of the young girl’s face crafted with a more dense, earthly material, while the tentacles, that engage with the material world, emit an otherworldly air? To me, the head is a symbol of the soul, a vital essence that does not sway with the whims with the world, while the tentacles capture both the body and the mind, who navigate and shapeshift in tandem through the ever-changing tides, both metaphorical and material. The metamorphosis between the body, mind, and soul find a harmonic state, allowing for an effortless, blissful dance to ensue.

      Bothwell’s evocative creations cannot be separated from her intuitive and heightened awareness of the cosmos’s constant state of flux. She imparts a heightened consciousness through her works, commanding the viewer to reflect upon the cosmic nature of their own body and human experience through her use of materials, metaphor, and subject.

[1]  Conversation with Christina Bothwell

[2] “Christina Bothwell.” Habatat Detroit Fine Art.

[3]  Conversation with Christina Bothwell

[4] “Christina Bothwell.” Habatat Detroit Fine Art.