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Some primal vitality was unleashed among Nigerian artists in the years preceding independence. The century-long reign of colonialism was coming to a close and the citizens of Nigeria, with its over 300 tribes and ebullient energy, were poised for a new future in which they would determine the nature of their lives.

Those who best expressed that dual stance, that contradiction of contemporary life and custom, were creators in all their stripes. Practitioners across the country, in ongoing conversation with one another, created works that evoked their traditions but in a contemporary 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 reimagining the vision of art in a rigorously Nigerian context.

The effect of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the group that congregated in Lagos and exhibited all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to reconnect its traditional ways, but modified 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 folklore; often it drew upon everyday life.

Ancestral beings, traditional entities, ceremonies, traditional displays featured prominently, alongside frequent subjects of rhythmic shapes, likenesses and vistas, but rendered in a special light, with a visual language that was totally distinct from anything in the European art heritage.

Global Exchanges

It is important to emphasize that these were not artists producing in isolation. They were in contact with the currents of world art, as can be seen by the approaches to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a response as such but a reclaiming, a retrieval, 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 depict a nation bubbling 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 reverse is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Current Impact

Two notable 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 most significant 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 highlight Nigeria's input to the wider story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian writers and artists in Britain have been a vital part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who sojourned here during the Nigerian civil war and created Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, individuals such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have molded the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

The legacy continues with artists such as El Anatsui, who has expanded the possibilities of global sculpture with his large-scale works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who reimagined Nigerian craft and modern design. They have continued the story of Nigerian modernism into the present day, bringing about a revitalization not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Practitioner Viewpoints

On Musical Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a excellent example of the British-Nigerian creative spirit. She combined jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not copying anyone, but producing a fresh approach. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it produces something new out of history.

I came of age 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 compelling, elevating and deeply connected 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 newly commissioned work: colored glass, engravings, impressive creations. It was a influential experience, showing me that art could narrate the history of a nation.

Written Influence

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 separated my family. My parents never spoke about it, so reading that book in 2006 was a pivotal 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 access to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would make fun of the idea of Nigerian or African art. We sought out representation wherever we could.

Musical Social Commentary

I loved encountering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in colorful costumes, and challenged authority. 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 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 unapologetically expressive and creative, something that feels even more important for my generation.

Current 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 emphasis 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 unapologetically personal.

I make figurative paintings that investigate 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 translating 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 expression I use as an artist today.

It wasn't until my mid-20s that I began finding 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 Heritage

Nigerians are, fundamentally, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so prolific in the creative space: a innate motivation, a dedicated approach and a community that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our ambition is based 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 shared experiences while remaining deeply rooted 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 important in my work, managing the different elements of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These connected experiences bring different urgencies and interests into my poetry, which becomes a space where these influences and perspectives melt together.