When the artist Patrick Scott died last February, just after his 93rd birthday and a day before the opening of retrospective exhibitions of his work at the Irish Museum of Modern Art in Dublin and Visual Carlow, the response made it clear Ireland had lost a major public figure.

Which is true, except that Scott was, in many respects, quite a private individual, shy of the glare of publicity.

It could be said his real achievement was to tread a path that put him at the centre of Irish artistic and cultural life for well over half a century while keeping him safely out of the limelight.

A worker by nature, he was never idle and was happiest in his studio, deeply immersed in a project. He didn’t go in for self-promotion. While he had a large circle of close and devoted friends, even those who knew him quite well were probably only sketchily aware of the breadth of his endeavours across the fields of art, architecture and design.

Impeccably judged

It was as if it took the shock of Scott’s death to crystallise the stream of work that flowed through his life and which now allows us to realise just what we have lost.

He was of course well known for his impeccably judged abstract paintings. He exhibited regularly at the Taylor Galleries in Dublin, and there were retrospectives at the Hugh Lane, the Douglas Hyde and elsewhere.

One of his paintings might consist minimally and purely of a disc composed of gold leaf applied to a background of oatmeal-coloured linen. But it almost always felt right. In 1972, he said of his approach: “In all my paintings I’ve been simplifying and simplifying all the time. I keep whittling them down.”

In fact, that Zen-like simplicity was much more than a feature of his style. It defined his sensibility and was his guiding aesthetic, not just in making a painting, but in his approach to every problem he encountered in art, architecture, design and, not least, life. For, as in the Japanese ritual of the tea ceremony, he believed one should bring an aesthetic sense to bear on every aspect of daily living.

He was genuinely charming, witty, tactful and engaging – and good-looking.

Sé Merry Doyle’s fine 2004 TV documentary took as its title the early view of him as the “Golden Boy”. But he was by no means falsely ingratiating and he could easily be direct and scathing in his judgment – not least on himself.

Sure of his own instincts, he could say that, prior to the establishment of Kilkenny Design Workshops: “The standard of design in Ireland was appalling.”

Born into a farming family in Kilbrittain, Co Cork in 1921, he spent his early years by the sea and reckoned the distant horizon line remained a lifelong influence on his painting. The family’s finances came to grief with the economic war of the 1930s.

Encouraged by a progressive art teacher at St Columba’s College in Dublin, Scott’s expressed ambition to be a painter was regarded as quixotic, but the obliging partner of an aunt underwrote his architectural studies at UCD, architecture being considered more financially sensible.

He embraced bohemian life in Dublin during the war years, mixing in a theatrical circle that included Micheál Mac Líammóir and Hilton Edwards, and became involved with the experimental White Stag art group, mostly composed of expatriate conscientious objectors.

Architecture

Witheringly self-critical of his initial exhibited works, he described himself as a “Grandma Moses”, evoking the renowned American folk artist.

Painting gradually became increasingly important to him, but he still qualified as an architect and went to work for Michael Scott, Ireland’s foremost modernist architect.

While he was never wholeheartedly committed to architecture, Patrick Scott did a great deal of work and was even involved in the design of Busáras in Dublin.

Meanwhile, in 1953, Michael Scott and Louis le Brocquy established the Signa Design Consultancy, a sort of one-stop shop for any design assignment.

It became clear the challenge of solving design problems suited Scott and he cheerfully turned his hand to everything from Christmas cards to the livery for CIE trains to theatre sets. He went on to design ambitious sets for The Playboy of the Western World and The Plough and the Stars.

From 1960, buoyed by winning a prestigious award at the Guggenheim International Exhibition, being chosen to represent Ireland at the Venice Biennale and other encouraging developments, he felt confident enough to quit his architectural job to concentrate on his own work.

However he never abandoned various design involvements and remained close to Scott Tallon Walker, as the firm subsequently became.

Even within the orbit of his own work he felt free to explore new areas: tapestry design (at which he excelled), folding screens, tables and printmaking; his later printmaking projects with Stoney Road Press were tremendously productive.

Taking stock of his cultural involvements through the decades, it’s clear he was pivotally, if quietly, involved in a formidable list of important initiatives and events.

As well as working on the design of Busáras, he was an active board member for 18 years of Kilkenny Design Workshops. He also designed the installation of the first Rosc, Ireland’s pioneering series of international exhibitions of contemporary art. He designed the Rosc catalogue cover and the exhibition motif, which drew more favourable critical responses than many of the exhibits. He went on to do the same for the next two Roscs.

In a way there are two aspects to the late Patrick Scott: the artist per se and the designer who was influential in developing many aspects of the cultural environment in which we now live.

While his contribution as a designer was consistently positive and significant, it is also often intangible in retrospect. It’s important to note he didn’t think less of any aspect of his activities in the area, bringing the same resolute aesthetic sense to everything.

Modernising influence

At the time of his death, Arts Council chair Sheila Pratschke pointed out that through his involvement in architecture and design, he had helped to shape a view of Ireland as being “a modern, culturally sophisticated society”.

That seems apposite. A modernising influence, he helped to change perceptions of the country and indeed to change our view of ourselves.

In light of this, it would be welcome to see the establishment of a central archive bringing together the many strands of his activities.

Then there is Patrick Scott the artist. Of course there are his many paintings, prints and other works which are widely dispersed through public and private collections. But it would be good if a representative body of his work could be assembled under one roof.

At its best, that work possesses a timeless purity and elegance.

As art critic Brian Fallon eloquently put it when reviewing an exhibition of his paintings in 1977: “Patrick Scott has perfect taste, in a country where even imperfect taste is rare.”