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A certain fundamental force was released among Nigerian creatives in the years preceding independence. The century-long dominance of colonialism was approaching its conclusion and the population of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and lively energy, were poised for a new future in which they would determine the context of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that dual stance, that contradiction of contemporary life and custom, were creators in all their varieties. Practitioners across the country, in constant exchange with one another, developed works that recalled their cultural practices but in a modern setting. 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 remaking the dream of art in a distinctly 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 profound. Their work helped the nation to reconnect its ancient ways, but adjusted to contemporary life. It was a fresh artistic expression, both contemplative and celebratory. Often it was an art that alluded to the many dimensions of Nigerian mythology; often it referenced common experiences.

Deities, forefather spirits, ceremonies, cultural performances featured prominently, alongside frequent subjects of moving forms, portraits and scenes, but presented in a special light, with a color scheme that was utterly unlike anything in the Western artistic canon.

International Connections

It is important to stress that these were not artists working in isolation. They were in touch with the movements of world art, as can be seen by the reactions to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a reaction as such but a retrieval, a reappropriation, of what cubism appropriated from Africa.

The other field in which this Nigerian modernism expressed 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 portray a nation bubbling 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.

Modern Impact

Two notable contemporary events demonstrate this. The much-awaited opening of the art museum in the historic center 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 spotlight 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 created Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, artists such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have molded the visual and intellectual life of these isles.

The legacy continues with artists such as El Anatsui, who has expanded the potential of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who transformed 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

On Musical Innovation

For me, Sade Adu is a perfect example of the British-Nigerian creative spirit. She fused jazz, soul and pop into something that was distinctively personal, not imitating anyone, but creating 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 regular 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 newly commissioned work: art glass, engravings, impressive creations. It was a developmental experience, showing me that art could tell the story 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 affected my family. My parents never spoke about it, so reading that book in 2006 was a foundational moment for me – it expressed 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 access to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would mock the idea of Nigerian or African art. We looked for representation wherever we could.

Artistic Social Commentary

I loved encountering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in dynamic 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 combination of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a accompaniment and a rallying cry for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be unapologetically outspoken and creative, something that feels even more urgent for my generation.

Contemporary Manifestations

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 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 unapologetically personal.

I make figurative paintings that examine identity, memory and family, often using my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with examining the past – at family photographs, Nigerian parties, rich fabrics – and converting those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the tools to fuse 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 finding 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 diaspora artists finding their voices.

Cultural Legacy

Nigerians are, basically, hustlers. I think that is why the diaspora is so prolific in the creative space: a innate motivation, a dedicated approach and a group that backs one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our ambition is grounded in culture.

For me, poetry has been the primary 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 common concerns while remaining strongly connected 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 dual nature of my heritage influences what I find most urgent in my work, navigating the multiple aspects of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These overlapping experiences bring different priorities and curiosities into my poetry, which becomes a realm where these influences and perspectives melt together.