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A certain raw energy was released among Nigerian artists in the years preceding independence. The hundred-year rule of colonialism was coming to a close and the people of Nigeria, with its over 300 tribes and vibrant energy, were positioned for a new future in which they would determine the nature of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that dual stance, that paradox of contemporary life and custom, were artists in all their varieties. Artists across the country, in constant conversation with one another, developed works that evoked their cultural practices but in a current framework. Figures 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 reimagining the dream 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 rediscover its historical ways, but modified to contemporary life. It was a innovative creative form, both contemplative and celebratory. Often it was an art that hinted at the many aspects of Nigerian folklore; often it referenced common experiences.

Deities, traditional entities, rituals, traditional displays featured centrally, alongside frequent subjects of moving forms, portraits and landscapes, but presented in a unique light, with a palette that was utterly different from anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Exchanges

It is crucial to emphasize that these were not artists producing in isolation. They were in dialogue with the currents 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 retrieval, a retrieval, of what cubism took 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 portray a nation fermenting 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 reverse is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Contemporary Significance

Two significant contemporary events demonstrate this. The long-anticipated 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 focus on Nigeria's input to the wider story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors and artists in Britain have been a crucial part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who lived here during the Nigerian civil war and crafted 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 legacy persists with artists such as El Anatsui, who has expanded the opportunities of global sculpture with his large-scale 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 Originality

For me, Sade Adu is a prime example of the British-Nigerian creative spirit. She fused jazz, soul and pop into something that was distinctively personal, not replicating 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 regular visits to Lagos's National Museum, which is where I first saw Ben Enwonwu's sculpture Anyanwu. It was compelling, elevating and deeply connected to Nigerian identity, and left a lasting impression 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: colored glass, engravings, large-scale works. It was a developmental experience, showing me that art could narrate the history of a nation.

Written 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 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 molded 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 looked for representation wherever we could.

Artistic Social Commentary

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed bare-chested, in dynamic 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 soundtrack and a inspiration for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be boldly expressive and creative, something that feels even more important for my generation.

Current Manifestations

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 returning to roots. Her emphasis on family, domestic life and memory gave me the confidence to know that my own experiences were sufficient, and that I could build a career making work that is confidently personal.

I make figurative paintings that examine 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 converting those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the skills to combine these experiences with my British identity, and that combination became the language 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 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 international artists finding their voices.

Cultural Legacy

Nigerians are, basically, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a dedicated approach and a group that encourages one another. Being in the UK has given more access, but our aspiration is grounded 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 influential in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to universal themes while remaining deeply rooted in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how innovation within tradition can generate new forms of expression.

The duality of my heritage shapes what I find most pressing in my work, navigating the multiple aspects of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These intersecting experiences bring different priorities and inquiries into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these impacts and outlooks melt together.