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A certain raw vitality was unleashed among Nigerian artists in the years before independence. The hundred-year dominance of colonialism was approaching its conclusion and the people of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and vibrant energy, were ready for a new future in which they would shape the framework of their lives.

Those who most articulated that double position, that contradiction of contemporary life and tradition, were artists in all their stripes. Creatives across the country, in continuous exchange with one another, created works that referenced 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 generation that congregated in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was deep. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its ancient ways, but adapted to contemporary life. It was a innovative creative form, both introspective and celebratory. Often it was an art that hinted at the many dimensions of Nigerian folklore; often it drew upon common experiences.

Ancestral beings, ancestral presences, rituals, masquerades featured significantly, alongside common subjects of dancing figures, likenesses and landscapes, but presented in a special light, with a palette that was utterly unlike anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Connections

It is essential to emphasize that these were not artists working in solitude. They were in dialogue 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 taking back, a reappropriation, of what cubism borrowed from Africa.

The other field in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement 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 bubbling 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.

Current Impact

Two important contemporary events bear this out. The much-awaited 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 well-known 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 focus on Nigeria's input to the wider story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian writers 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 sculpted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, figures such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have molded the artistic and cultural life of these isles.

The legacy endures with artists such as El Anatsui, who has extended the potential of global sculpture with his impressive 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 regeneration not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Creative Viewpoints

On Musical Creativity

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

I came of age 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, uplifting 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: stained glass, carvings, impressive creations. It was a formative experience, showing me that art could tell the story of a nation.

Literary 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 divided 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 exposure to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would ridicule the idea of Nigerian or African art. We pursued representation wherever we could.

Musical Political Expression

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed shirtless, 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 combination of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a musical backdrop and a inspiration for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be unapologetically outspoken and creative, something that feels even more important for my generation.

Contemporary Expressions

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

I make human form works that examine identity, memory and family, often referencing 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 skills to combine these experiences with my British identity, and that combination became the vocabulary 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 largely ignored 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 overseas artists finding their voices.

Artistic Heritage

Nigerians are, essentially, driven individuals. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a natural drive, a dedicated approach and a community that backs one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our aspiration is rooted 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 developmental 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 exploration within tradition can produce new forms of expression.

The twofold aspect 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 connected experiences bring different concerns and inquiries into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these impacts and outlooks melt together.