Christopher Pratt:
Life & Work

By Mireille Eagan

Christopher Pratt: Life & WorkBy Mireille Eagan

Chapter

Seasons Series, 2009

When Christopher Pratt was seven, he had a dream that stayed with him for the rest of his life. In it, he walked down a road he somehow knew would lead to the end of the world. The road suddenly stopped, dropping off into a vast, empty space. He stood there calmly, looking out into the void. That dream never faded—and its quiet sense of mystery and stillness, of horizon as both boundary and possibility—echoes throughout his art.

For Pratt, open space—especially the ocean horizon—was not a source of unease, but of calm. He maintained a lifelong connection to the water—one shaped by observation. “I’m very much aware of living on an island basically my entire life,” he once said. That island-based awareness—of periphery, boundary, and horizon—shaped not only how he saw, but also how he painted.

view of the labrador current in shadows of soft green

In Labrador Current, 1973, a thin line of ice drifts across the horizon, resting above a band of pale blue water, a darker strip of waves, and then the small ripples that press against the bottom of the painting. There is no shore, no solid place for the viewer to stand. Foreground, middle ground, and background flatten into one plane, turning realism toward abstraction. Only the title—anchoring it along the Strait of Belle Isle—grounds it in place.

For Pratt, open space—especially the ocean horizon—was not a source of unease, but of calm. He maintained a lifelong connection to the water—one shaped by observation. “I’m very much aware of living on an island basically my entire life,” he once said. That island-based awareness—of periphery, boundary, and horizon—shaped not only how he saw, but also how he painted.

In Labrador Current, 1973, a thin line of ice drifts across the horizon, resting above a band of pale blue water, a darker strip of waves, and then the small ripples that press against the bottom of the painting. There is no shore, no solid place for the viewer to stand. Foreground, middle ground, and background flatten into one plane, turning realism toward abstraction. Only the title—anchoring it along the Strait of Belle Isle—grounds it in place.

In Bay, 1972, Pratt breaks the horizon across three panels, transforming a simple coastal view into something monumental. The composition is both formal and abstract. Space is organized into layered planes that steadily recede, drawing the eye across the water and into the sky. Yet the divisions of the frame interrupt this flow, reminding us that we are not entering the scene itself but encountering a painting—an image constructed and contained on the canvas.

It is in his Seasons Series that Pratt turns his attention toward pure atmosphere. These four minimalist paintings—each oriented to a cardinal direction and time of year—offer an observance of Newfoundland’s climate, light, and changing seasons. While a departure from his architectural works, they share Pratt’s enduring fascination with space, perception, and time.

painting of window looking out a horizon line on the water at sunset

Here, Pratt distills the sky and sea to their essentials. “With these works,” he said, “I aim to capture something fundamental about the ocean’s horizontality.” Each painting subtly shifts in colour and rhythm, suggesting what Pratt described as “a subtle but present momentum.” While minimalist in appearance, the paintings are grounded in language. Pratt was fascinated by the form of things—the rhythm of waves, the rhythm of words, the rhythm of seasons. Language and image operate together, anchored in experience, shaped by weather and watchfulness.

For Pratt, seasons weren’t just meteorological—they were emotional. This sensitivity is especially evident in the Seasons Series. As Pratt explained: “The title of Winter Suite reflects how, in Newfoundland, Fall, Winter, and Spring blend seamlessly. Summer stands alone, distinct and independent.” The series captures not only the physical climate, but also the psychological weather of Newfoundland—its long grey seasons punctuated by fleeting warmth and light.

Pratt’s move toward abstraction was not a departure from meaning but a refinement of it. These paintings are about attention—what it means to truly observe. They ask the viewer to pause and feel the shift of time—not in narrative, but in light.

Christopher Pratt:Life & Work

Seasons Series, 2009

Gallery

Christopher Pratt:
Life & Work