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Some fundamental energy was released among Nigerian practitioners in the years leading up to independence. The hundred-year dominance of colonialism was coming to a close and the population of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and ebullient energy, were poised for a fresh chapter in which they would shape the context of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that double position, that tension of contemporary life and tradition, were artists in all their stripes. Creatives across the country, in continuous dialogue with one another, produced works that referenced their traditions 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 distinctly Nigerian context.

The effect 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 reestablish ties its ancient ways, but modified to the present day. It was a new art, both brooding and festive. Often it was an art that alluded to the many dimensions of Nigerian mythology; often it referenced everyday life.

Deities, forefather spirits, rituals, traditional displays featured centrally, alongside popular subjects of rhythmic shapes, representations and scenes, but presented in a special light, with a palette that was utterly unlike anything in the Western artistic canon.

International Influences

It is crucial to highlight that these were not artists creating in isolation. They were in contact 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 taking back, a reappropriation, of what cubism appropriated from Africa.

The other area in which this Nigerian modernism 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 show 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.

Modern Significance

Two significant contemporary events confirm this. The much-awaited opening of the art museum in the historic center of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the single most important 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 approaching exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to focus on Nigeria's contribution 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 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 influenced the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

The tradition endures with artists such as El Anatsui, who has extended the possibilities of global sculpture with his large-scale works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who reimagined Nigerian craft and modern design. They have extended 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.

Creative Viewpoints

On Artistic Originality

For me, Sade Adu is a perfect example of the British-Nigerian creative spirit. She blended jazz, soul and pop into something that was entirely her own, not imitating anyone, but developing a innovative style. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it creates something new out of history.

I was raised 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 impactful, inspiring and strongly linked to Nigerian identity, and left a memorable effect 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: stained glass, carvings, large-scale works. It was a formative experience, showing me that art could tell the story of a nation.

Literary Impact

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 expressed 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 access to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would mock the idea of Nigerian or African art. We sought out representation wherever we could.

Artistic Political Expression

I loved encountering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in vibrant costumes, and confronted establishment. 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 soundtrack and a call to action for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be boldly outspoken and creative, something that feels even more urgent for my generation.

Current 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 finding belonging. Her emphasis on family, domestic life and memory gave me the confidence to know that my own experiences were adequate, and that I could build a career making work that is boldly personal.

I make representational art that explore 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 transforming 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 blending 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 overseas artists finding their voices.

Artistic Tradition

Nigerians are, essentially, hustlers. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a natural drive, a strong work ethic and a community that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our drive is based 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 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 generate new forms of expression.

The duality of my heritage influences what I find most pressing in my work, navigating the various facets of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These connected experiences bring different concerns and interests into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these influences and viewpoints melt together.