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Some primal force was set free among Nigerian creatives in the years leading up to independence. The century-long dominance of colonialism was nearing its end and the population of Nigeria, with its over 300 tribes and lively energy, were ready for a different era in which they would determine the context of their lives.

Those who most articulated that dual stance, that contradiction of modernity and heritage, were creators in all their forms. Creatives across the country, in ongoing conversation with one another, produced 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 reinventing the vision of art in a thoroughly Nigerian context.

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

Deities, traditional entities, rituals, cultural performances featured significantly, alongside frequent subjects of dancing figures, portraits and scenes, but executed in a unique light, with a color scheme that was totally unlike anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Influences

It is essential to emphasize that these were not artists creating in solitude. They were in dialogue with the trends 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 retrieval, of what cubism took from Africa.

The other field in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement manifested itself is in the Nigerian novel. Works such as Chinua Achebe's foundational Things Fall Apart, Wole Soyinka's The Interpreters and Amos Tutuola's The Palm-Wine Drinkard are all works that depict a nation fermenting 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.

Contemporary Significance

Two important contemporary events bear this out. The eagerly expected opening of the art museum in the traditional capital of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the most crucial event in African art since the notorious 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 focus on Nigeria's role 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, artists such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have influenced the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

The legacy persists with artists such as El Anatsui, who has broadened the potential of global sculpture with his monumental works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who reimagined Nigerian craft and modern design. They have prolonged the story of Nigerian modernism into the present day, bringing about a renewal not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Artist Insights

On Artistic 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 creating a innovative style. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it makes something fresh out of history.

I was raised 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, inspiring and strongly linked to Nigerian identity, and left a lasting impression 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, carvings, monumental installations. It was a influential experience, showing me that art could tell the story 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 affected my family. My parents never spoke about it, so reading that book in 2006 was a seminal 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 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.

Artistic Social Commentary

I loved finding Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, 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 blend of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a accompaniment and a call to action for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be boldly outspoken and creative, something that feels even more pressing 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 coming home. Her focus on family, domestic life and memory gave me the assurance to know that my own experiences were sufficient, and that I could build a career making work that is boldly personal.

I make human form works that examine 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 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 fusion 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 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 international artists finding their voices.

Artistic Heritage

Nigerians are, essentially, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so productive in the creative space: a natural drive, a strong work ethic and a network that backs one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our ambition 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 influential in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to common concerns while remaining strongly connected 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 twofold aspect of my heritage influences what I find most urgent 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 priorities and inquiries into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these influences and outlooks melt together.