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A certain fundamental force was set free among Nigerian creatives in the years before independence. The century-long rule of colonialism was coming to a close and the population of Nigeria, with its numerous tribes and vibrant energy, were ready for a new future in which they would decide the context of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that double position, that paradox of contemporary life and custom, were creators in all their forms. Creatives across the country, in continuous dialogue with one another, produced works that recalled their traditions but in a modern 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 reinventing the vision of art in a distinctly 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 significant. Their work helped the nation to rediscover its traditional ways, but adjusted to the present day. It was a new art, both contemplative and celebratory. Often it was an art that alluded to the many aspects of Nigerian mythology; often it drew upon common experiences.

Deities, traditional entities, ceremonies, cultural performances featured significantly, alongside common subjects of rhythmic shapes, likenesses and scenes, but presented in a unique light, with a palette that was totally different from anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Connections

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

The other domain 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 simmering with energy and cultural tensions. Christopher Okigbo wrote in Labyrinths, 1967, that "We carry in our worlds that flourish / Our worlds that have failed." But the opposite is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Current Influence

Two important contemporary events demonstrate this. The eagerly expected opening of the art museum in the historic center of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the most significant 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 approaching exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to spotlight Nigeria's contribution to the broader 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 resided here during the Nigerian civil war and sculpted 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 intellectual life of these isles.

The heritage persists with artists such as El Anatsui, who has extended the possibilities of global sculpture with his monumental works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who transformed 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.

Artist Insights

On Artistic Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a excellent example of the British-Nigerian artistic energy. She blended jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not copying anyone, but developing a innovative style. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it makes something innovative 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 deeply connected to Nigerian identity, and left a memorable effect 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 recently created work: stained glass, engravings, 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 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 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 exposure to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would make fun of the idea of Nigerian or African art. We sought out representation wherever we could.

Musical Social Commentary

I loved encountering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed bare-chested, in dynamic costumes, and challenged authority. 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 accompaniment and a rallying cry for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be boldly vocal and creative, something that feels even more important for my generation.

Contemporary 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 focus on family, domestic life and memory gave me the certainty to know that my own experiences were enough, and that I could build a career making work that is confidently personal.

I make figurative paintings 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 blend 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 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 significantly. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young international artists finding their voices.

Artistic Legacy

Nigerians are, fundamentally, hustlers. I think that is why the diaspora is so prolific in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a dedicated approach and a network that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our ambition is rooted 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 deeply rooted in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how experimentation within tradition can produce new forms of expression.

The dual nature of my heritage shapes what I find most pressing in my work, managing the various facets of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These connected experiences bring different urgencies and curiosities into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these effects and perspectives melt together.