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Some raw vitality was set free among Nigerian creatives in the years before independence. The hundred-year reign of colonialism was coming to a close and the people of Nigeria, with its numerous tribes and ebullient energy, were positioned for a fresh chapter in which they would shape the context of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that dual stance, that contradiction of modernity and heritage, were artists in all their varieties. Practitioners across the country, in ongoing exchange with one another, produced works that evoked their traditions 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 remaking the vision of art in a rigorously Nigerian context.

The influence of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the collective that assembled in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to rediscover its historical ways, but adapted to contemporary life. It was a innovative creative form, both introspective and joyous. Often it was an art that hinted at the many dimensions of Nigerian mythology; often it drew upon daily realities.

Deities, forefather spirits, ceremonies, cultural performances featured centrally, alongside frequent subjects of rhythmic shapes, portraits and landscapes, but presented in a distinctive light, with a visual language that was totally distinct from anything in the western tradition.

Worldwide Connections

It is essential to highlight that these were not artists creating in isolation. They were in dialogue with the currents of world art, as can be seen by the responses to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a answer as such but a reclaiming, a recovery, of what cubism took from Africa.

The other domain in which this Nigerian modernism 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 depict 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 opposite is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Contemporary Significance

Two important contemporary events confirm this. The much-awaited 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 infamous burning of African works of art by the British in that same city, in 1897.

The other is the approaching 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 creatives in Britain have been a vital part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who resided 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 shaped the visual and intellectual life of these isles.

The tradition persists with artists such as El Anatsui, who has extended the possibilities of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who alchemised Nigerian craft and modern design. They have extended the story of Nigerian modernism into contemporary times, bringing about a revitalization not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Creative Perspectives

Regarding Musical Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a perfect example of the British-Nigerian innovative approach. She blended jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not replicating anyone, but creating a innovative style. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it makes 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 powerful, inspiring and intimately tied to Nigerian identity, and left a enduring impact 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, engravings, large-scale works. It was a influential 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 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 seminal moment for me – it gave voice to 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 access to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would ridicule the idea of Nigerian or African art. We looked for representation wherever we could.

Artistic Activism

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed shirtless, in dynamic 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 blend 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 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 finding belonging. 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 unapologetically personal.

I make human form works that investigate identity, memory and family, often referencing 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 blending became the vocabulary 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 mostly overlooked 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, fundamentally, hustlers. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a natural drive, a committed attitude and a community that encourages one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our ambition is grounded 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 experimentation within tradition can produce new forms of expression.

The duality of my heritage influences 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 intersecting experiences bring different urgencies and curiosities into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these impacts and viewpoints melt together.