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A certain fundamental energy was set free among Nigerian artists in the years preceding independence. The century-long dominance of colonialism was coming to a close and the people of Nigeria, with its numerous tribes and vibrant energy, were poised for a new future in which they would decide the context of their lives.

Those who best expressed that dual stance, that paradox of contemporary life and heritage, were artists in all their forms. Artists across the country, in constant exchange with one another, produced works that referenced their cultural practices but in a contemporary framework. 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 vision of art in a rigorously Nigerian context.

The effect of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the generation that gathered in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to rediscover its traditional ways, but adapted to contemporary life. It was a innovative creative form, both brooding and joyous. Often it was an art that alluded to the many aspects of Nigerian folklore; often it incorporated common experiences.

Spirits, forefather spirits, practices, masquerades featured prominently, alongside common subjects of dancing figures, likenesses and scenes, but executed in a distinctive light, with a palette that was utterly different from anything in the western tradition.

Global Influences

It is essential to highlight that these were not artists producing in seclusion. They were in contact with the currents of world art, as can be seen by the reactions to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a reaction as such but a reclaiming, a reappropriation, of what cubism borrowed 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 portray a nation bubbling with energy and identity struggles. Christopher Okigbo wrote in Labyrinths, 1967, that "We carry in our worlds that flourish / Our worlds that have failed." But the contrary is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Current Significance

Two significant contemporary events confirm this. The eagerly expected opening of the art museum in the historic center 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 spotlight Nigeria's role to the wider story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors and artists in Britain have been a essential 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, artists such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have influenced the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

The legacy endures with artists such as El Anatsui, who has extended the opportunities of global sculpture with his large-scale works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who alchemised Nigerian craft and modern design. They have continued the story of Nigerian modernism into contemporary times, bringing about a renewal not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Artist Insights

Regarding Musical Innovation

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

I grew up 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 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 important Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of recently created work: stained glass, sculptures, impressive creations. It was a developmental 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 divided 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 molded 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.

Artistic Social Commentary

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in colorful costumes, and spoke truth to power. I'd grown up with the idea that we always had to be very cautious 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 confidently vocal and creative, something that feels even more urgent for my generation.

Contemporary Manifestations

The artist who has inspired 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 assurance to know that my own experiences were enough, and that I could build a career making work that is unapologetically personal.

I make figurative paintings that explore identity, memory and family, often using my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with looking backwards – 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 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 significantly. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young diaspora artists finding their voices.

Artistic Legacy

Nigerians are, fundamentally, hustlers. I think that is why the diaspora is so prolific in the creative space: a innate motivation, a strong work ethic and a network that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our ambition is rooted in culture.

For me, poetry has been the key 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 shared experiences while remaining firmly grounded in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how innovation within tradition can generate new forms of expression.

The dual nature of my heritage informs what I find most pressing in my work, managing the multiple aspects of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These overlapping experiences bring different urgencies and inquiries into my poetry, which becomes a realm where these influences and perspectives melt together.