Commission Story — Hillsborough Castle Otter

A resting otter for Hillsborough Castle and Gardens

I was commissioned to carve a life-size otter for the newly landscaped ravine at Hillsborough Castle in Northern Ireland – a Royal Residence surrounded by sweeping gardens and carefully restored natural features.  The designers wanted a piece that felt truly tooted in the landscape, not an ornament placed there, but a creature that belonged to the gully as though it had just emerged from the water and paused to rest.

The otter was to be carved in Yorkshire sandstone, chosen for its warm, natural character and durability.  It has a softness in texture that pairs beautifully with animal forms, allowing subtle transitions in fur and movement without feeling overly literal or polished.

Belonging to the Landscape

The setting itself shaped the direction of the piece: a steep ravine with a flowing watercourse below, bordered by rock and native planting. 

Rather than carving an otter in motion, playful, alert or hunting, we wanted one that felt settled, curled naturally upon a large stone on the bank. As if the water were still dripping from its coat.  As if the viewer had simply stumbled upon a quiet moment – a sense of found presence was at the heart of the piece.

Carving in stone, carving with character

I began by studying the curves and musculature of otters – their long, fluid bodies, the way they fold themselves into resting shapes, tail wrapped, head poised.  Translating such organic movement into stone requires restraint – too much detail and the carving becomes stiff and the form loses its life.

The sandstone allowed me to carve soft, natural contours – an otter that feels tactile, almost warm, inviting the hand to follow the line of its back or the curl of its tail. The character is quiet rather than dramatic – it offers otter presence.

Placed on a large natural boulder near the water’s edge, the otter looks as thought it has chosen the spot itself – part of the landscape, not imposed on it.

A piece made to be encountered, not displayed

What I love about this commission is the way visitors experience it.

You don’t approach it as a sculptural centrepiece, rather you simply notice it as though catching a glimpse of wildlife resting in a favourite spot.

Children stop to exclaim, walkers pause by the water, and the stone becomes part of the quiet conversation between place, nature and imagination.

Creating work for public landscapes – especially historic ones – always carries a sense of responsibility.  The piece must contribute to the environment while remaining gentle enough to let the landscape lead.

The otter felt like exactly that kind of contribution – a natural presence, rooted in stone and story, resting in a favoured habitat where water meets land.