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Some primal vitality was set free among Nigerian creatives in the years before independence. The hundred-year rule of colonialism was nearing its end and the population of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and ebullient energy, were poised for a new future in which they would shape the context of their lives.

Those who most articulated that double position, that paradox of modernity and heritage, were creators in all their stripes. Practitioners across the country, in constant exchange with one another, produced works that recalled their cultural practices but in a contemporary 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 concept of art in a thoroughly Nigerian context.

The effect of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the generation that gathered in Lagos and showcased all over the world, was profound. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its ancient ways, but adjusted to modern times. It was a fresh artistic expression, both introspective and festive. Often it was an art that suggested the many aspects of Nigerian folklore; often it drew upon everyday life.

Ancestral beings, traditional entities, ceremonies, masquerades featured prominently, alongside frequent subjects of dancing figures, portraits and landscapes, but rendered in a unique light, with a palette that was utterly different from anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Exchanges

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 response as such but a reclaiming, a recovery, of what cubism took from Africa.

The other field in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement manifested itself is in the Nigerian novel. Works such as Chinua Achebe's foundational 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 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 significant contemporary events bear this out. The long-anticipated opening of the art museum in the traditional capital of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the single most important 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 forthcoming exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to spotlight Nigeria's role to the larger 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 resided here during the Nigerian civil war and created 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 persists with artists such as El Anatsui, who has broadened the opportunities of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who transformed Nigerian craft and modern design. They have prolonged 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.

Artist Insights

On Musical Innovation

For me, Sade Adu is a perfect example of the British-Nigerian artistic energy. She blended jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not imitating anyone, but developing a new sound. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it makes something innovative out of history.

I grew up 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 powerful, 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 significant Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of recently created work: colored glass, engravings, impressive creations. It was a formative experience, showing me that art could tell the story 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 affected 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 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 ridicule the idea of Nigerian or African art. We pursued representation wherever we could.

Artistic Political Expression

I loved encountering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed bare-chested, in colorful costumes, and spoke truth to power. 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 blend of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a accompaniment and a rallying cry for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be confidently vocal and creative, something that feels even more pressing for my generation.

Modern Forms

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 returning to roots. Her concentration on family, domestic life and memory gave me the certainty 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 investigate identity, memory and family, often using my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with exploring history – at family photographs, Nigerian parties, rich fabrics – and converting those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the methods to blend these experiences with my British identity, and that fusion became the language 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 mostly overlooked 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 diaspora artists finding their voices.

Cultural Legacy

Nigerians are, basically, driven individuals. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a innate motivation, a committed attitude and a group that backs one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our aspiration is based 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 influential in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to universal themes while remaining strongly connected in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how experimentation within tradition can create new forms of expression.

The dual nature of my heritage informs what I find most urgent in my work, navigating the various facets of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These overlapping experiences bring different urgencies and interests into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these influences and perspectives melt together.