Deer Lake: Junction Brook Memorial, 1999

Christopher Pratt, Deer Lake: Junction Brook Memorial, 1999, oil on canvas, 114.5 x 305 cm, National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa
Deer Lake: Junction Brook Memorial feels monumental—rows of glowing windows set into a fortress-like power station, framed against a night sky. The composition’s formal clarity—its frontal view, rhythmic windows, and deep perspective—anchors the viewer. Each window pulses with a warmth that contrasts with the night. The turbines inside are indistinct, and the power lines vanish into darkness.

Christopher Pratt in his studio with Deer Lake: Junction Brook Memorial.
In Deer Lake, Pratt balances celebration and elegy, engineering triumph and environmental grief. The painting stands as a powerful testament to Newfoundland and Labrador’s history, an open invitation to look, to remember, and to consider what we gain—and lose—when we harness nature. Once a lively salmon stream, Junction Brook was dammed in the 1920s to feed the Deer Lake powerhouse. By the late 1990s it had dwindled to “a miserable trickle,” Pratt recalled. His painting bears witness to that vanished watercourse. While he was working on the painting, he wrote: “I may call it ‘Junction Brook Memorial’ if I decide to be political. And actually, that says it all.”
Like many of Pratt’s later works, this painting emerged from his drives across the island. Pratt and his then-wife Jeanette frequently drove past the power plant, on the way to the Fine Arts School at Sir Wilfred Grenfell College (now Grenfell Campus) of Memorial University in Corner Brook.
This work became a milestone in his career, admired for its monumental scale, luminous contrasts, and balance between the lived environment and the architecture that shapes it. When describing this painting, Pratt wrote (echoing the phrase taught to him at Glasgow): “Art is not reality, but often reality is art.” For him, interpreting his experience of the dam cast up a complex feeling that he “struggled to describe.”
Yet, despite giving it a specific name and location, Pratt claimed, “My places don’t exist. What did exist was the strange feeling I always get from seeing water exit from a building with that force and volume.” The painting “proceeded from that wonder we share at the immense power behind dams and containment in pen stocks and the fury of its release, like a wild horse breaking the gates.” The bridge railing in the foreground holds back what Pratt calls “implied chaos,” while beyond it, the dam’s furious outflow hints at both nature’s power and its subjugation.

Christopher Pratt, Benoit's Cove: Sheds in Winter, 1998, oil on hardboard, 68.6 x 152.4cm, The Rooms, St. John's.
Around this time, Pratt’s artistic approach increasingly adopted a nocturnal mode illuminated by different kinds of lights—the crisp phosphorescent light in Benoit’s Cove: Sheds in Winter, 1998, the car’s headlights in his road imagery, or the sharp light of a star overhead. What attracted Pratt to these subjects was the poetry of the image, the patterns and look of the light and shadow, and the way they played on structures. The buzz of the light, the different tones, were for him “mysterious poetry.”
Later in his life, Pratt envisioned making a sunset version of this painting. A stretched canvas, with a partial underdrawing, was left unfinished in his studio as he turned his attention to smaller works. He attributed his inability to complete it to logistical challenges following his divorce from Jeanette Meehan, who had also worked as his underpainter. But there are potentially other reasons it was left undone. He may have been mindful of what he called the “economy of time”—better to work on smaller pieces to build income rather than a larger work that took more time. Maybe, as he was in his eighties, the unfinished canvas felt like a final statement—a quiet acknowledgment that his long career of striving and making was reaching its close. Perhaps leaving it unresolved, suggesting what might have been, was more satisfying.
Gallery

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.