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A certain raw force was set free among Nigerian artists in the years preceding independence. The hundred-year reign of colonialism was coming to a close and the population of Nigeria, with its over 300 tribes and vibrant energy, were ready for a new future in which they would shape the nature of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that double position, that contradiction of contemporary life and tradition, were artists in all their forms. Artists across the country, in continuous exchange with one another, created works that recalled their traditions but in a modern setting. Figures 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 dream of art in a thoroughly Nigerian context.

The influence of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the group that congregated in Lagos and exhibited all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to rediscover its historical ways, but modified to the present day. It was a new art, both introspective and celebratory. Often it was an art that suggested the many aspects of Nigerian legend; often it incorporated everyday life.

Spirits, forefather spirits, practices, traditional displays featured significantly, alongside popular subjects of moving forms, portraits and landscapes, but executed in a special light, with a visual language that was totally unlike anything in the European art heritage.

Worldwide Connections

It is important to stress that these were not artists creating in solitude. They were in dialogue with the movements of world art, as can be seen by the approaches to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a answer as such but a retrieval, a retrieval, of what cubism borrowed from Africa.

The other area in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement expressed itself is in the Nigerian novel. Works such as Chinua Achebe's influential Things Fall Apart, Wole Soyinka's The Interpreters and Amos Tutuola's The Palm-Wine Drinkard are all works that depict a nation fermenting with energy and identity struggles. Christopher Okigbo wrote in Labyrinths, 1967, that "We carry in our worlds that flourish / Our worlds that have failed." But the reverse is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Contemporary Impact

Two significant contemporary events confirm this. The eagerly expected opening of the art museum in the historic center 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 forthcoming exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to focus on Nigeria's input to the larger story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors and artists in Britain have been a essential part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who lived here during the Nigerian civil war and crafted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, figures such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have influenced the visual and cultural life of these isles.

The legacy continues with artists such as El Anatsui, who has extended the possibilities of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who alchemised Nigerian craft and modern design. They have continued the story of Nigerian modernism into modern era, bringing about a revitalization not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Practitioner Insights

Regarding Musical Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a excellent example of the British-Nigerian creative spirit. She blended jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not copying anyone, but producing a fresh approach. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it makes something fresh out of history.

I came of age between Lagos and London, and used to pay repeated 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 enduring impact on me, even as a child. In 1977, when I was a teenager, Nigeria hosted the significant Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of recently created work: stained glass, engravings, large-scale works. It was a developmental 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 separated my family. My parents never spoke about it, so reading that book in 2006 was a pivotal moment for me – it gave voice to a history that had molded my life but was never spoken about.

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

Artistic Social Commentary

I loved encountering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in colorful costumes, and spoke truth to power. I'd grown up with the idea that we always had to be very careful of not wanting to say too much when it came to politics. His music – a combination of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a soundtrack and a call to action for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be unapologetically expressive and creative, something that feels even more urgent for my generation.

Modern Expressions

The artist who has influenced 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 concentration on family, domestic life and memory gave me the assurance to know that my own experiences were adequate, and that I could build a career making work that is confidently personal.

I make human form works that examine identity, memory and family, often drawing on my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with exploring history – at family photographs, Nigerian parties, rich fabrics – and transforming those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the skills to blend these experiences with my British identity, and that fusion became the expression I use as an artist today.

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

Cultural Legacy

Nigerians are, fundamentally, driven individuals. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a committed attitude and a group that encourages one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our aspiration is based in culture.

For me, poetry has been the main bridge connecting me to Nigeria, especially as someone who doesn't speak Yoruba. Niyi Osundare's poetry has been influential in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to shared experiences while remaining deeply rooted in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how exploration within tradition can produce new forms of expression.

The duality of my heritage shapes what I find most pressing in my work, negotiating the multiple aspects of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These intersecting experiences bring different priorities and inquiries into my poetry, which becomes a space where these impacts and outlooks melt together.