Andrew Eaton-Lewis: George Wyllie, you gave and continue to give inspiration to all of us

WHEN George Wyllie died last week, Scotland seemed suddenly drained of a little energy and colour. It reminded me of March 2006, when Ian Hamilton Finlay and Ivor Cutler died within weeks of each other. All these men were, in their different ways, mavericks – eccentric, subversive, not always appreciated for it, but irreplaceable once lost.

It’s heartening, in many ways, that Wyllie passed away in a year when his life and work was being so publicly celebrated, with a year-long festival organised by family and friends, many of whom had long felt that his work was undervalued. In this, his death echoes that of Edwin Morgan, who also passed away at the age of 90, at a point when his legacy seemed in safe hands. Still, he’s gone, and no amount of recognition can – or should – take away the crushing sadness of that.

When I first discovered Wyllie, I remember being particularly pleased to find out that he only began making art in his early forties, having previously worked as a customs officer and, before that, served in the Navy.

Who becomes an artist – or, indeed, begins doing anything creative – in their forties? Nobody who isn’t prepared to face an uphill struggle to be taken seriously. The Turner Prize excludes any artist over the age of 50. Media coverage of almost every area in the arts is obsessed with youth, even literature, with its fevered debate surrounding lists of “the best novelists under 40”. And if you’re a musician, forget it. Either lie about your age, or resign yourself to being a novelty act, like Susan Boyle, gawped at for having the nerve to intrude into the territory of the young and pretty.

I’m going slightly off topic here. The point is, there are some people whose lives make you feel more alive, because, watching them (from, I admit, a distance) you feel as if they are living life to the fullest, feeling, searching, questioning, rebelling against convention with every breath they have. When one of these people dies, it feels like the most appropriate reaction is not to offer a quiet, reassuring “they had a good life though, didn’t they?” but to live more fiercely, to rage harder against the dying of the light.

I may, I admit, be feeling this way partly because I will soon turn 40. Well George, you gave – and continue to give – inspiration to all of us. I hope your passing is a wake-up call to people of every age to create, and rebel, and inspire. That would be a fitting tribute.