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A certain raw energy was unleashed among Nigerian practitioners in the years preceding independence. The hundred-year rule of colonialism was coming to a close and the population of Nigeria, with its over 300 tribes and vibrant energy, were positioned for a fresh chapter in which they would determine the context of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that dual stance, that contradiction of modernity and heritage, were creators in all their stripes. Creatives across the country, in constant conversation with one another, developed works that evoked their cultural practices but in a current framework. 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 concept of art in a distinctly Nigerian context.

The impact of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the generation that congregated in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to rediscover its traditional ways, but adjusted to contemporary life. It was a fresh artistic expression, both brooding and joyous. Often it was an art that hinted at the many dimensions of Nigerian mythology; often it incorporated daily realities.

Deities, traditional entities, practices, masquerades featured significantly, alongside popular subjects of moving forms, representations and vistas, but executed in a unique light, with a palette that was utterly distinct from anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Connections

It is crucial to stress that these were not artists working in isolation. 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 reappropriation, of what cubism appropriated from Africa.

The other area in which this Nigerian modernism 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 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 significant contemporary events confirm this. The much-awaited opening of the art museum in the traditional capital of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the most crucial event in African art since the infamous burning of African works of art by the British in that same city, in 1897.

The other is the upcoming exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to focus on Nigeria's role to the broader story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors and creatives in Britain have been a essential part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who sojourned 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 artistic and cultural life of these isles.

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

Creative Perspectives

On Artistic Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a excellent example of the British-Nigerian artistic energy. She fused jazz, soul and pop into something that was entirely her own, not imitating anyone, but creating a new sound. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it makes something innovative out of history.

I came of age 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 compelling, elevating and intimately tied to Nigerian identity, and left a lasting impression 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 specially produced work: colored glass, carvings, impressive creations. It was a formative experience, showing me that art could convey the experience of a nation.

Written Influence

If I had to choose one piece of Nigerian art which has influenced 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 seminal moment for me – it gave voice to 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 pursued representation wherever we could.

Artistic Political Expression

I loved finding Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed shirtless, in colorful costumes, and challenged authority. 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 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 confidently outspoken and creative, something that feels even more important for my generation.

Modern Expressions

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 certainty to know that my own experiences were sufficient, and that I could build a career making work that is boldly personal.

I make representational art that explore identity, memory and family, often referencing my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with examining the past – at family photographs, Nigerian parties, rich fabrics – and translating those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the tools to combine these experiences with my British identity, and that fusion became the vocabulary 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 generally neglected them. In the last five years or so, Nigeria's cultural presence has grown considerably. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young international artists finding their voices.

Cultural Heritage

Nigerians are, basically, driven individuals. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a dedicated approach and a community that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our ambition is grounded 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 formative in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to universal themes while remaining firmly grounded in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how exploration within tradition can create new forms of expression.

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