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A certain fundamental force was set free among Nigerian creatives in the years before independence. The hundred-year dominance of colonialism was nearing its end and the population of Nigeria, with its numerous tribes and vibrant energy, were poised for a fresh chapter in which they would shape the framework of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that dual stance, that tension of contemporary life and heritage, were artists in all their varieties. Practitioners across the country, in continuous conversation with one another, developed works that recalled their cultural practices but in a contemporary context. 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 rigorously Nigerian context.

The effect of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the collective that gathered in Lagos and showcased all over the world, was deep. Their work helped the nation to rediscover its historical ways, but modified to modern times. It was a new art, both introspective and celebratory. Often it was an art that hinted at the many dimensions of Nigerian folklore; often it referenced everyday life.

Deities, traditional entities, ceremonies, cultural performances featured prominently, alongside common subjects of dancing figures, likenesses and scenes, but executed in a special light, with a visual language that was totally different from anything in the western tradition.

International Exchanges

It is essential to emphasize that these were not artists working in isolation. They were in dialogue with the movements 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 retrieval, a reappropriation, 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 seminal Things Fall Apart, Wole Soyinka's The Interpreters and Amos Tutuola's The Palm-Wine Drinkard are all works that show 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.

Contemporary Influence

Two notable contemporary events confirm this. The much-awaited opening of the art museum in the ancient city of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the single most important 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 spotlight Nigeria's role to the larger story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian writers and creatives in Britain have been a crucial 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 intellectual life of these isles.

The legacy endures with artists such as El Anatsui, who has expanded the potential of global sculpture with his large-scale 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 revitalization not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Practitioner Viewpoints

On Musical Innovation

For me, Sade Adu is a excellent example of the British-Nigerian creative spirit. She fused jazz, soul and pop into something that was distinctively personal, not imitating anyone, but producing a fresh approach. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it creates something innovative 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, inspiring and deeply connected to Nigerian identity, and left a memorable effect 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 specially produced work: stained glass, engravings, monumental installations. It was a developmental experience, showing me that art could narrate the history of a nation.

Literary 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 affected my family. My parents never spoke about it, so reading that book in 2006 was a foundational moment for me – it gave voice to a history that had influenced 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 looked for representation wherever we could.

Musical Political Expression

I loved finding Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in dynamic costumes, and confronted establishment. 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 fusion of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a accompaniment and a rallying cry 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 adequate, and that I could build a career making work that is unapologetically personal.

I make human form works that investigate identity, memory and family, often drawing on my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with examining the past – 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 largely ignored 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, hustlers. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a dedicated approach and a community that encourages one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our drive 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 common concerns while remaining firmly grounded in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how experimentation within tradition can produce new forms of expression.

The dual nature of my heritage informs what I find most pressing in my work, negotiating the different elements of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These overlapping experiences bring different concerns and curiosities into my poetry, which becomes a realm where these effects and perspectives melt together.