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A certain fundamental force was set free among Nigerian artists in the years before independence. The hundred-year rule of colonialism was approaching its conclusion and the people of Nigeria, with its numerous tribes and ebullient energy, were positioned for a fresh chapter in which they would determine the context of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that dual stance, that contradiction of contemporary life and tradition, were creators in all their stripes. Artists across the country, in ongoing conversation 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 reinventing the concept of art in a thoroughly Nigerian context.

The influence of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the generation that gathered in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its historical ways, but adjusted to the present day. It was a innovative creative form, both brooding and joyous. Often it was an art that hinted at the many facets of Nigerian legend; often it referenced everyday life.

Deities, traditional entities, practices, traditional displays featured centrally, alongside frequent subjects of dancing figures, likenesses and landscapes, but rendered in a distinctive light, with a color scheme that was completely unlike anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Exchanges

It is important to emphasize that these were not artists producing in solitude. They were in touch with the movements of world art, as can be seen by the approaches to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a answer as such but a retrieval, a recovery, of what cubism took from Africa.

The other field in which this Nigerian modernism revealed 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 depict 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 opposite is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Modern Influence

Two significant contemporary events demonstrate this. The eagerly expected opening of the art museum in the ancient city 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 forthcoming exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to highlight Nigeria's role to the broader story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian writers and creatives in Britain have been a vital 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, individuals such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have shaped the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

The tradition continues with artists such as El Anatsui, who has broadened the possibilities of global sculpture with his monumental works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who alchemised Nigerian craft and modern design. They have prolonged 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.

Creative Viewpoints

On Musical Innovation

For me, Sade Adu is a prime example of the British-Nigerian creative spirit. She combined jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not imitating anyone, but producing a new sound. 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 powerful, inspiring and intimately tied 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 newly commissioned work: art glass, sculptures, monumental installations. It was a developmental 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 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 familiarity to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would ridicule the idea of Nigerian or African art. We sought out representation wherever we could.

Artistic Political Expression

I loved finding Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in vibrant 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 blend of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a musical backdrop and a call to action for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be boldly expressive and creative, something that feels even more urgent for my generation.

Current Expressions

The artist who has motivated 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 confidence to know that my own experiences were adequate, and that I could build a career making work that is confidently personal.

I make figurative paintings that explore identity, memory and family, often referencing my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with exploring history – 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 combination became the expression I use as an artist today.

It wasn't until my mid-20s that I began discovering Black artists – specifically Nigerian ones – because art education mostly overlooked 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.

Cultural Tradition

Nigerians are, fundamentally, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a committed attitude and a network that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our ambition is rooted in culture.

For me, poetry has been the main 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 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 shapes 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 curiosities into my poetry, which becomes a space where these influences and viewpoints melt together.