The only glimpse I ever caught of Oscar Niemeyer came a little over a year ago, when the great modernist architect celebrated his 104th birthday. After a 10-floor climb up the stairs to his Copacabana penthouse apartment (ironically for a winner of architecture's prestigious Pritzker prize, the lift was out of order), I emerged into a crowded room with walls covered in his minimalist drawings.

The man himself, who more than anyone redefined Brazil's image in the 20th century, was sitting in his wheelchair with a glass of red wine greeting visitors. Having outlived everyone, his peers, his first wife and even his own daughter, who died aged 82 in 2012, it seemed like this self-declared “communist from birth” wanted to cling on for just a bit longer to witness the great changes sweeping through the country he loved.

He lasted another 11 months, dying last December just before his 105th birthday.