Beneath the train bridge that crosses Upper Erne Street and connects the Dart stations at Pearse Street and Grand Canal Dock sits a little sculpture of a rat.
Perched on a square platform with its long tail curved in an s-shape, the Kilkenny limestone figure is nestled in a corner near among the pedestrian archways that leads under the bridge.
The bridge, which is likewise limestone, was developed around 1833. The rat is much more recent.
Its surface area provides no tip regarding its origins. There’s no signature or initials and even a date.
Images from Google Street View reveal that the corner where it sits was empty back in September 2014.
But when the next set of images were taken in July 2017, there it was – snuggled and mixing into the ashlar.
For years it was alone. Then in December 2022, the stony animal was signed up with by a 2nd character: a cat.
Positioned on the opposite side of the street, by Erne Terrace, it observed the rat as if preparing to catch its victim.
Like its neighbour, the cat bore no marker. But its age provided an idea that its developer was most likely regional.
The Friendly Neighbourhood Rodent
The rat appeared about 6 years earlier, says David Mitchell, a local of Upper Erne Street. “I think we all came across it and were wondering about it for a while.”
Its origins flummoxed much of the locals for numerous years, says Mitchell, standing simply outside his home on his front action.
It was just when brand-new neighbours relocated, that a person took it upon himself to seek the developer, he says. “He tracked him down by talking to the hairdressers around the corner.”
Discovering the provenance of the statue produced a bond in between much of the locals of Erne Street and the surrounding balcony, Mitchell says. It ended up being the regional trick.
“It had a cascading effect, which brought people together who hadn’t really known each other before,” he says.
A Feline Friend
Both the cat and the mouse were made not far from where they now sit, in a studio embellished with abstract and metaphorical sculptures.
On the racks and the floorings are dark green Connemara marble stones, damaged pieces of alabaster and pieces of Kilkenny limestone.
At a wood desk, he sculpts and sculpts away at his productions, utilizing angle mills, straight mills, pencil-like tungsten scribes, and diamond-coated rifflers for filing.
His cat was very first prototyped in styrofoam, prior to a last variation was moulded from clay. It needed to fit on the opposite corner of the bridge.
The cat’s eyes are large open, its chin rests on the stone platform as if ready to spring.
The artist behind the sculptures didn’t desire his name released as neither of the pieces on the street was set up with approval from the council.
Betty Ashe, a regional activist and homeowner, said that a number of years earlier, after the rat was set up, the artist and a few of his neighbours satisfied up to have beverages over Christmas.
“A lad who lives around the corner had a cat, and it was his pride and joy, and it was suggested he do a cat,” she says.
“It was one of these ridiculous things and then it became a reality,” Ashe says.
The cat was ultimately called Ernie, says John Devlin, who lives around the corner on Erne Terrace. “That’s our cat.”
Time Cat-sule
Whereas the rat was a singular act of guerrilla sculpting, setting up Ernie ended up being a neighborhood job.
The artist wished to get his neighbours included and feeling positive about their brand-new neighbour, says Mitchell.
“He was talking with everyone in the area to see if they were happy with this,” Mitchell says. When it came time to install it, the artist had the concept of an engraving, says Mitchell.
Residents marked their names and ages on a flattened sheet of roof lead, says Ashe. “He printed all of the names, and some of the kids did their own.”
They likewise marked on it the cost of a pint of Guinness at the time, and of a 50g pouch of tobacco, a litre of milk and a loaf of bread, Ashe says. “It was a time capsule, and he rolled that up and put it underneath.”
The outside of the roll was engraved with the words “read me”. Inside, at the top of the time pill, it checks out: “Ernie, the Erne St. Cat, under the care of various residents past and present of Erne St. Upper and Erne Terr. Rear.”
While unauthorised, in such a way, the production of the 2 sculptures appear to agree with the city board’s goals for public art in the city.
In February 2020, prior to the council introduced its Sculpture Dublin job, which saw 6 sculptures commissioned for the city, Arts Officer Ray Yeates said the council’s objective was to concentrate on art that related to areas and not “parachuted in”.
During an independent survey performed at the close of the job, 73 percent of individuals revealed their assistance for public participation in the decision-making procedure around public art.
From his doorstep on the rear balcony, Rory O’Neill can see the cat.
Back in late 2022, likewise saw a set of guys out in high-vis coats setting up Ernie into the ground, he says.
It has all included a good little regional character to the area, he says. “It’s an area that can be rough, but when you have people stopping by to look at it, and to have it there, it’s really nice.”
Ashe says it is terrific to have an accomplished carver who contributed this to their area. “Mainly kids passing by are the first ones to notice it.”
Mitchell says he and his family got their own cats after Ernie was put in his location. “I think it’s had a surprising effect on us all. It’s a conversation piece, just like how the rat first brought us all together.”
