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A certain primal force was set free among Nigerian creatives in the years before independence. The hundred-year rule of colonialism was coming to a close and the population of Nigeria, with its over 300 tribes and lively energy, were positioned for a different era in which they would shape the nature of their lives.

Those who most articulated that complex situation, that tension of modernity and tradition, were creators in all their stripes. Creatives across the country, in ongoing dialogue with one another, produced works that recalled their cultural practices but in a contemporary setting. 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 remaking the vision of art in a distinctly Nigerian context.

The influence of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the collective that congregated in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its traditional ways, but adjusted to the present day. It was a fresh artistic expression, both contemplative and joyous. Often it was an art that suggested the many dimensions of Nigerian mythology; often it referenced everyday life.

Deities, ancestral presences, rituals, masquerades featured significantly, alongside frequent subjects of moving forms, representations and landscapes, but rendered in a special light, with a visual language that was completely different from anything in the European art heritage.

Worldwide Exchanges

It is crucial to highlight that these were not artists creating in solitude. They were in contact with the movements of world art, as can be seen by the reactions to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a response as such but a reclaiming, a reappropriation, of what cubism appropriated from Africa.

The other field in which this Nigerian modernism 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 portray 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 Significance

Two important contemporary events demonstrate this. The eagerly expected opening of the art museum in the traditional capital 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 contribution to the wider 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 crafted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, figures such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have shaped the visual and cultural life of these isles.

The heritage persists with artists such as El Anatsui, who has broadened the possibilities of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who reimagined Nigerian craft and modern design. They have continued the story of Nigerian modernism into modern era, bringing about a regeneration not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Creative Perspectives

On Artistic Innovation

For me, Sade Adu is a prime example of the British-Nigerian innovative approach. 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 produces something fresh out of history.

I came of age 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 impactful, inspiring 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 newly commissioned work: colored glass, engravings, impressive creations. It was a influential experience, showing me that art could convey the experience of a nation.

Written Significance

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 pivotal 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 mock the idea of Nigerian or African art. We sought out representation wherever we could.

Artistic Social Commentary

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed shirtless, in colorful costumes, and spoke truth to power. 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 musical backdrop and a call to action for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be unapologetically expressive and creative, something that feels even more important for my generation.

Current Manifestations

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 focus 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 unapologetically personal.

I make figurative paintings that examine 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 skills to blend these experiences with my British identity, and that blending became the language 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 generally neglected them. In the last five years or so, Nigeria's cultural presence has grown considerably. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young international artists finding their voices.

Cultural Heritage

Nigerians are, essentially, hustlers. I think that is why the diaspora is so productive in the creative space: a natural drive, a strong work ethic 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 main bridge connecting me to Nigeria, especially as someone who doesn't speak Yoruba. Niyi Osundare's poetry has been formative in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to common concerns while remaining strongly connected in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how innovation within tradition can produce new forms of expression.

The twofold aspect of my heritage influences what I find most important in my work, negotiating the different elements of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These intersecting experiences bring different concerns and inquiries into my poetry, which becomes a realm where these influences and viewpoints melt together.