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A certain raw vitality was unleashed among Nigerian creatives in the years leading up to independence. The hundred-year reign of colonialism was nearing its end and the people of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and vibrant energy, were ready for a different era in which they would determine the context of their lives.

Those who most articulated that dual stance, that contradiction of modernity and heritage, were creators in all their stripes. Practitioners across the country, in constant exchange with one another, produced works that evoked their cultural practices but in a modern context. 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 remaking the dream of art in a distinctly Nigerian context.

The effect of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the group that assembled in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was profound. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its ancient ways, but modified to modern times. It was a fresh artistic expression, both brooding and joyous. Often it was an art that alluded to the many facets of Nigerian legend; often it incorporated everyday life.

Spirits, forefather spirits, ceremonies, masquerades featured centrally, alongside common subjects of rhythmic shapes, likenesses and vistas, but presented in a unique light, with a palette that was totally different from anything in the European art heritage.

International Influences

It is essential to stress that these were not artists working in isolation. They were in touch with the currents of world art, as can be seen by the responses to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a response as such but a reclaiming, a recovery, of what cubism appropriated from Africa.

The other area in which this Nigerian modernism expressed 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 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 Significance

Two important contemporary events demonstrate this. The long-anticipated opening of the art museum in the traditional capital of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the single most important 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 contribution 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 sojourned 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 cultural life of these isles.

The heritage endures with artists such as El Anatsui, who has expanded the potential of global sculpture with his monumental works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who reimagined Nigerian craft and modern design. They have extended the story of Nigerian modernism into the present day, bringing about a renewal not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Creative Perspectives

On Musical Originality

For me, Sade Adu is a prime example of the British-Nigerian creative spirit. She blended jazz, soul and pop into something that was entirely her own, not imitating anyone, but producing a innovative style. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it makes something fresh 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, uplifting and intimately tied 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, carvings, large-scale works. It was a influential experience, showing me that art could convey the experience of a nation.

Written Influence

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 foundational moment for me – it expressed 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 pursued representation wherever we could.

Musical Political Expression

I loved encountering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in dynamic costumes, and spoke truth to power. I'd grown up with the idea that we always had to be very careful of not wanting to say too much when it came to politics. His music – a fusion of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a soundtrack and a rallying cry for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be unapologetically expressive and creative, something that feels even more important for my generation.

Modern 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 concentration 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 human form works that explore identity, memory and family, often drawing on 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 fusion became the expression I use as an artist today.

It wasn't until my mid-20s that I began encountering 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 diaspora artists finding their voices.

Cultural Tradition

Nigerians are, basically, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so prolific in the creative space: a natural drive, a strong work ethic and a community that supports 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 influential in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to common concerns while remaining firmly grounded 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 different elements of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These overlapping experiences bring different urgencies and interests into my poetry, which becomes a realm where these influences and viewpoints melt together.