Christmas Eve at 12 O’Clock, 1995

Man walking to shed in the winter with a flashlight at night

Christopher Pratt, Christmas Eve at 12 O’Clock, 1995, lithograph on paper (A/P VI), 25.8 x 28.5 cm, The Rooms, St. John’s

Although seemingly unusual in Christopher Pratt’s practice, Christmas Eve at 12 O’Clock is in fact one of his most revealing artworks. The same precision and restraint that shape his landscapes and interiors are at play here but turned inward. Here, we see Pratt most clearly: the discipline of his craft infused with the tenderness of lived experience, the fragile balance between what endures and what slips away. 

Handwritten notes on a lined piece of paper

Christopher Pratt, Christmas Eve at 12 O'Clock - Notes, 1995, graphite on paper, 14.7 cm x 15.2 cm, The Rooms, St. John's.

As with much of his work, the image begins in words. Language was central in his artistic practice. He wrote in journals daily and chose the titles for his paintings carefully. In his preparatory notes for this piece, Pratt reflects: “Christmas Eve, 12 O’Clock. The Hardy Poem. A sheep shed lit by an approaching figure. It is the viewer who goes to the shed; the light in his hand. The door to the shed is closed. Darkness behind - maybe trees. No moon or stars - the animals will not be on their knees.”


A published poet and nephew of E.J. Pratt, he treated language not only as a tool but as a material to be shaped. In this artwork, Pratt blends literature and visual art. The “Hardy poem” he alludes to, “The Oxen,” cites the myth of animals kneeling at midnight in honour of the birth of Jesus:


Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.
‘Now they are all on their knees,’
An elder said as we sat in a flock
By the embers in hearthside ease.

We pictured the meek mild creatures where
They dwelt in their strawy pen,
Nor did it occur to one of us there
To doubt they were kneeling then.

So fair a fancy few would weave
In these years! Yet, I feel,
If someone said on Christmas Eve,
‘Come; see the oxen kneel

‘In the lonely barton by yonder coomb
Our childhood used to know,’
I should go with him in the gloom,
Hoping it might be so.



The piece presents a poignant moment: a portrait of the artist, seen from behind, poised to enter a barn, flashlight in hand. This is in stark contrast to many of his other self-portraits, in which he often faces the viewer.


“My father’s work is less about faith than about hope,” his daughter Anne explains. “It’s about moving through darkness—or standing in our darkest hour—longing for a sign of something greater, for something better to be true. Reason tells us that when you walk into the barn the animals won’t be kneeling. Hope is what pushes the door open anyway. In that moment the figure, Dad, is so exposed, so vulnerable—and yet you can’t help but hope alongside him.


For Pratt, it is the viewer who will move beyond the artist on the passage through the barn door, imagining themselves stepping into the scene. This invitation not only draws the viewer into the artwork but also emphasizes the act of seeing and experiencing it as a participatory journey. For viewers, it may stir echoes of their own rituals and pauses, those charged moments when time seems to slow, and the weight of memory settles gently into the present. Displayed at his funeral, the piece resonated deeply with Pratt’s creative spirit throughout his life—the move forward into the unknown, hoping it might be so.

Gallery

landscape using muted colours of tress, land, sky, and oil

Christopher Pratt, Gros Morne (At Portland Creek), 1960, oil on Plywood, 91 x 91.5 cm, The Rooms, St. John’s.

serigraph of a boat in the sand

Christopher Pratt, Gros Morne (At Portland Creek), 1961, serigraph on paper (working proof), 42 x 75.2 cm, The Rooms, St. John’s

woman sitting at dresser mirror without shirt on

Christopher Pratt, Woman at a Dresser, 1964, oil on hardboard, 67.2 x 77.5 cm, McMichael Canadian Art Collection, Kleinburg, Ontario

painting of a lynx in the snow

Christopher Pratt, The Lynx, 1965, Serigraph on paper, 51.8 x 76.2 cm, The Rooms, St. John’s

two level simple brown house, straight on view with water in the distance

Christopher Pratt, House in August, 1969, oil on board, 44.5 x 62.2 cm, Currier Museum of Art, New Hampshire

view looking out of a window at brick institutional buildings

Christopher Pratt, Institution, 1973, oil on Masonite, 76.2 x 76.2 cm, National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa

shadows of trees on a white siding house with pine trees in the background

Christopher Pratt, Spring at My Place, 1985, serigraph, 50.6 x 95.7 cm, The Rooms, St. John’s

Man walking to shed in the winter with a flashlight at night

Christopher Pratt, Christmas Eve at 12 O’Clock, 1995, lithograph on paper (A/P VI), 25.8 x 28.5 cm, The Rooms, St. John’s

Rows of glowing windoes set into a fortress-like power station framed by the night sky

Christopher Pratt, Deer Lake: Junction Brook Memorial, 1999, oil on canvas, 114.5 x 305 cm, National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa

Road disappearing into the distance with headlight shining on it as if the perspective is you are the driver, at sunset.

Christopher Pratt, Driving to Venus: On the Burgeo Road, 2000, oil on hardboard, 101.6 x 165.1 cm, Private collection

a long dock in the water with a bird soaring above

Christopher Pratt, After the Cold War: Argentia Approach, 2008, oil on canvas, 152.4 x 177.8 cm, Private collection

four paintings oh the coast line

From left to right:  Christopher Pratt, Winter Suite 1: West Fall Evening, 2009, oil on board, 91.4 x 104.1 cm, private collection; Christopher Pratt, Winter Suite 2: North Winter Night, 2009, oil on board, 91.4 x 104.1 cm, private collection; Christopher Pratt, Winter Suite 3: East Spring Morning, 2009, oil on board, 91.4 x 104.1 cm, private collection; Christopher Pratt, Summer 1/1 4: South Summer Noon, 2009, oil on board, 91.4 x 104.1 cm, private collection.

Christmas Eve at 12 O’Clock