Becky Borthwick

Borthwick is a Marlborough-based artist whose textile practice is deeply rooted in the rhythms of the natural world. Through layered stitch, pigment, and cloth, she creates tactile works that quietly hold the memory of the ever-changing seasons that are inflicted upon her local landscape.

From the Atelier Collection

- Becky Borthwick

Becky Borthwick is an artist based in Marlborough whose innate affinity with the outdoors, nature, animals, and the changing seasons informs her tactile practice of textile stitched collage and sculpture.

Working with linen and muslin prepared using pigments bound in soya milk, Becky embraces a slow, process-led approach. The textile is left to cure over several weeks, allowing time for reflection and for ideas to evolve. This sense of alchemy and unpredictability is central to her work, often leading to unexpected outcomes and new directions.

Alongside her practice as an equine therapist, Becky is deeply immersed in the landscape. Her work with horses is physical and sensory, and this connection translates into her visual language through line, contour, and layered texture. Using textile, paper, and stitch, she builds surfaces intuitively, creating work that holds both movement and stillness.

Her inspiration is drawn from lived experience: the curve of a horse’s silhouette or the arch of a hare’s back echo the ridgelines and folds of the Wiltshire Downs. These fleeting impressions are first captured as marks on paper or textile — recordings of a moment in time.

From these beginnings, Becky develops her pieces using recycled materials and natural textiles, combined with acrylics, inks, soya milk, earth pigments, lime, and watercolour. Her work seeks to hold the memory of the landscape — from the length of stubble to the softness of grass or the grit of chalk — with layered materials evoking both surface and depth. A quiet magic runs through the process, as pigments settle, ink moves, and unseen details emerge over time.

Sentinel trees. Along the ridges and valleys of Wiltshire, ancient trees stand as sentinels, looking down over the land. Rooted near pathways, barrows, and crossings, they hold their ground as quiet guardians. Their presence carries the weight of memory, as if they have watched centuries pass across the bounds.
— Becky Borthwick