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Some primal vitality was set free among Nigerian artists in the years leading up to 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 different era in which they would determine the framework of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that double position, that paradox of contemporary life and custom, were artists in all their stripes. Practitioners across the country, in constant exchange with one another, created works that referenced 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 reinventing the concept of art in a distinctly Nigerian context.

The effect of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the group that congregated in Lagos and showcased all over the world, was profound. Their work helped the nation to rediscover its traditional ways, but adapted to modern times. It was a fresh artistic expression, both brooding and celebratory. Often it was an art that suggested the many aspects of Nigerian legend; often it drew upon common experiences.

Deities, traditional entities, practices, cultural performances featured prominently, alongside common subjects of rhythmic shapes, portraits and landscapes, but executed in a unique light, with a visual language that was utterly distinct from anything in the western tradition.

Worldwide Exchanges

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

The other area in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement manifested 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 show 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 contrary is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Modern Impact

Two significant contemporary events bear this out. 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 well-known 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 highlight Nigeria's contribution 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 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 artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

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

Artist Insights

On Artistic Innovation

For me, Sade Adu is a prime example of the British-Nigerian creative spirit. She blended jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not imitating anyone, but developing a innovative style. 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, inspiring and deeply connected to Nigerian identity, and left a enduring impact on me, even as a child. In 1977, when I was a teenager, Nigeria hosted the landmark 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 influential experience, showing me that art could convey the experience 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 separated 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 familiarity to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would mock the idea of Nigerian or African art. We pursued representation wherever we could.

Musical Social Commentary

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

Current 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 concentration 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 representational art that investigate 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 methods to combine these experiences with my British identity, and that blending 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 Tradition

Nigerians are, basically, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so productive in the creative space: a natural drive, a dedicated approach and a network that encourages one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our aspiration is grounded 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 firmly grounded 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 twofold aspect 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 urgencies and interests into my poetry, which becomes a realm where these effects and viewpoints melt together.