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A certain primal energy was set free among Nigerian creatives in the years leading up to independence. The hundred-year rule of colonialism was approaching its conclusion and the population of Nigeria, with its numerous tribes and vibrant energy, were positioned for a new future in which they would determine the framework of their lives.

Those who most articulated that double position, that paradox of modernity and tradition, were creators in all their varieties. Practitioners across the country, in ongoing exchange with one another, produced works that referenced their cultural practices but in a contemporary 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 vision of art in a thoroughly Nigerian context.

The impact of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the collective that gathered in Lagos and exhibited all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to reconnect its ancient ways, but adjusted to contemporary life. It was a innovative creative form, both contemplative and celebratory. Often it was an art that alluded to the many aspects of Nigerian legend; often it drew upon daily realities.

Ancestral beings, traditional entities, rituals, masquerades featured prominently, alongside common subjects of moving forms, representations and scenes, but rendered in a unique light, with a visual language that was utterly distinct from anything in the Western artistic canon.

Global Exchanges

It is important 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 reactions to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a response as such but a taking back, a recovery, of what cubism appropriated from Africa.

The other domain in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement revealed 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 portray a nation simmering with energy and societal conflicts. 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 important contemporary events demonstrate this. The long-anticipated 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 well-known 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 input to the wider story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors and creatives in Britain have been a crucial 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, artists 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 broadened the opportunities of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who alchemised Nigerian craft and modern design. They have extended the story of Nigerian modernism into the present day, bringing about a renewal not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Artist Perspectives

About Artistic Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a prime example of the British-Nigerian innovative approach. She blended jazz, soul and pop into something that was distinctively personal, not copying anyone, but creating a new sound. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it produces something innovative 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 compelling, uplifting and strongly linked 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: art glass, carvings, large-scale works. It was a formative experience, showing me that art could narrate the history of a nation.

Literary Influence

If I had to choose one piece of Nigerian art which has impacted 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 foundational moment for me – it articulated a history that had influenced my life but was never spoken about.

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

Artistic Political Expression

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed shirtless, in vibrant costumes, and spoke truth to power. I'd grown up with the idea that we always had to be very guarded 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 inspiration 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 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 emphasis 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 confidently personal.

I make figurative paintings that explore identity, memory and family, often drawing on my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with examining the past – 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 combine these experiences with my British identity, and that combination 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 significantly. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young overseas artists finding their voices.

Cultural Legacy

Nigerians are, essentially, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so productive in the creative space: a innate motivation, a committed attitude and a network that encourages one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, 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, managing the different elements of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These connected experiences bring different priorities and interests into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these impacts and outlooks melt together.