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Some raw energy was unleashed among Nigerian practitioners in the years leading up to independence. The hundred-year rule of colonialism was coming to a close and the population of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and lively energy, were ready for a fresh chapter in which they would determine the context of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that double position, that tension of contemporary life and tradition, were creators in all their varieties. Practitioners across the country, in ongoing exchange with one another, created works that referenced their cultural practices but in a current framework. Artists such as Yusuf Grillo in the north, Bruce Onobrakpeya from the midwest, Ben Enwonwu from the east and Twins Seven Seven from the west were reimagining the concept of art in a thoroughly Nigerian context.

The impact of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the generation that assembled in Lagos and exhibited all over the world, was deep. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its traditional ways, but adapted to modern times. It was a fresh artistic expression, both contemplative and celebratory. Often it was an art that suggested the many dimensions of Nigerian legend; often it incorporated common experiences.

Deities, ancestral presences, ceremonies, cultural performances featured significantly, alongside frequent subjects of moving forms, representations and scenes, but rendered in a distinctive light, with a color scheme that was totally distinct from anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Influences

It is essential to emphasize that these were not artists producing in seclusion. They were in contact with the currents of world art, as can be seen by the approaches to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a reaction as such but a retrieval, a recovery, of what cubism appropriated from Africa.

The other area in which this Nigerian modernism manifested itself is in the Nigerian novel. Works such as Chinua Achebe's seminal Things Fall Apart, Wole Soyinka's The Interpreters and Amos Tutuola's The Palm-Wine Drinkard are all works that show a nation bubbling with energy and cultural tensions. Christopher Okigbo wrote in Labyrinths, 1967, that "We carry in our worlds that flourish / Our worlds that have failed." But the contrary is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Current Impact

Two notable contemporary events bear this out. The long-anticipated opening of the art museum in the traditional capital of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the single most important event in African art since the notorious burning of African works of art by the British in that same city, in 1897.

The other is the approaching exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to spotlight Nigeria's input to the broader story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors and artists in Britain have been a vital part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who resided here during the Nigerian civil war and sculpted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, figures such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have shaped the artistic and cultural life of these isles.

The heritage endures with artists such as El Anatsui, who has broadened the possibilities of global sculpture with his monumental works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who transformed Nigerian craft and modern design. They have extended the story of Nigerian modernism into contemporary times, bringing about a renewal not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Artist Insights

On Artistic Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a perfect example of the British-Nigerian artistic energy. She blended jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not replicating anyone, but producing a new sound. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it creates something fresh out of history.

I was raised between Lagos and London, and used to pay frequent visits to Lagos's National Museum, which is where I first saw Ben Enwonwu's sculpture Anyanwu. It was impactful, inspiring and intimately tied to Nigerian identity, and left a memorable effect on me, even as a child. In 1977, when I was a teenager, Nigeria hosted the important Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of newly commissioned work: art glass, engravings, large-scale works. It was a formative experience, showing me that art could tell the story of a nation.

Literary Significance

If I had to choose one piece of Nigerian art which has affected me the most, it would be Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. It is about the Nigerian civil war in the 60s, which divided my family. My parents never spoke about it, so reading that book in 2006 was a pivotal moment for me – it expressed a history that had shaped my life but was never spoken about.

I grew up in Newcastle in the 70s and 80s, and there was no access to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would make fun of the idea of Nigerian or African art. We sought out representation wherever we could.

Artistic Political Expression

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in vibrant costumes, and confronted establishment. I'd grown up with the idea that we always had to be very cautious of not wanting to say too much when it came to politics. His music – a blend of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a musical backdrop and a call to action for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be unapologetically vocal and creative, something that feels even more urgent for my generation.

Contemporary Manifestations

The artist who has inspired me most is Njideka Akunyili Crosby. I saw her work for the first time at the Venice Biennale in 2013, and it felt like coming home. Her focus on family, domestic life and memory gave me the assurance to know that my own experiences were sufficient, and that I could build a career making work that is boldly personal.

I make human form works that explore identity, memory and family, often referencing my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with looking backwards – at family photographs, Nigerian parties, rich fabrics – and transforming those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the tools to blend these experiences with my British identity, and that combination became the language I use as an artist today.

It wasn't until my mid-20s that I began discovering Black artists – specifically Nigerian ones – because art education mostly overlooked them. In the last five years or so, Nigeria's cultural presence has grown significantly. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young diaspora artists finding their voices.

Cultural Legacy

Nigerians are, essentially, driven individuals. I think that is why the diaspora is so prolific in the creative space: a innate motivation, a committed attitude and a network that backs one another. Being in the UK has given more access, but our ambition is rooted in culture.

For me, poetry has been the key bridge connecting me to Nigeria, especially as someone who doesn't speak Yoruba. Niyi Osundare's poetry has been developmental in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to common concerns while remaining strongly connected in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how experimentation within tradition can create new forms of expression.

The dual nature of my heritage informs what I find most important in my work, navigating the multiple aspects of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These connected experiences bring different urgencies and inquiries into my poetry, which becomes a space where these influences and perspectives melt together.