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A certain fundamental vitality was released among Nigerian creatives in the years before independence. The hundred-year rule of colonialism was nearing its end and the people of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and lively energy, were ready for a different era in which they would determine the context of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that dual stance, that contradiction of modernity and heritage, were creators in all their forms. Creatives across the country, in constant dialogue with one another, produced works that referenced their cultural practices but in a contemporary 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 reinventing the concept of art in a thoroughly Nigerian context.

The impact of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the group that congregated in Lagos and showcased all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its ancient ways, but adjusted to contemporary life. It was a innovative creative form, both contemplative and joyous. Often it was an art that alluded to the many aspects of Nigerian folklore; often it referenced common experiences.

Deities, forefather spirits, practices, traditional displays featured centrally, alongside frequent subjects of dancing figures, likenesses and scenes, but rendered in a unique light, with a palette that was totally unlike anything in the Western artistic canon.

Global Exchanges

It is essential to emphasize that these were not artists producing in seclusion. They were in contact with the currents of world art, as can be seen by the responses to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a reaction as such but a taking back, a retrieval, of what cubism appropriated from Africa.

The other field in which this Nigerian modernism revealed 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 fermenting 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 Influence

Two significant contemporary events bear this out. 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 upcoming exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to highlight Nigeria's contribution to the broader story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors 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 intellectual life of these isles.

The legacy continues with artists such as El Anatsui, who has broadened the potential of global sculpture with his large-scale works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who transformed 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

Regarding Artistic Innovation

For me, Sade Adu is a excellent example of the British-Nigerian innovative approach. She combined jazz, soul and pop into something that was distinctively personal, not imitating anyone, but creating a innovative style. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it creates something innovative out of history.

I came of age 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 powerful, inspiring and strongly linked to Nigerian identity, and left a enduring impact on me, even as a child. In 1977, when I was a teenager, Nigeria hosted the landmark Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of specially produced work: colored glass, engravings, monumental installations. It was a developmental experience, showing me that art could tell the story of a nation.

Literary Impact

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 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 make fun of the idea of Nigerian or African art. We pursued representation wherever we could.

Musical Social Commentary

I loved encountering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed shirtless, in colorful costumes, and confronted establishment. 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 accompaniment and a rallying cry for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be confidently expressive and creative, something that feels even more pressing for my generation.

Contemporary Forms

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

I make representational art that explore 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 transforming those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the tools to blend these experiences with my British identity, and that combination became the expression 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 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 overseas artists finding their voices.

Artistic Heritage

Nigerians are, fundamentally, driven individuals. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a strong work ethic and a group that backs one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our aspiration is grounded 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 formative in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to universal themes while remaining strongly connected in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how experimentation within tradition can generate new forms of expression.

The dual nature of my heritage shapes what I find most pressing in my work, navigating the various facets of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These overlapping experiences bring different concerns and inquiries into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these influences and outlooks melt together.