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A certain raw force was set free among Nigerian creatives in the years leading up to independence. The century-long rule of colonialism was nearing its end and the citizens of Nigeria, with its over 300 tribes and vibrant energy, were ready for a new future in which they would shape the framework of their lives.

Those who most articulated that double position, that contradiction of modernity and custom, were artists in all their varieties. Practitioners across the country, in continuous dialogue with one another, developed works that recalled their cultural practices but in a modern setting. 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 concept of art in a thoroughly Nigerian context.

The effect of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the group that gathered in Lagos and exhibited all over the world, was profound. Their work helped the nation to reconnect its ancient ways, but adjusted to the present day. It was a fresh artistic expression, both brooding and celebratory. Often it was an art that suggested the many aspects of Nigerian mythology; often it referenced everyday life.

Spirits, traditional entities, rituals, traditional displays featured prominently, alongside common subjects of dancing figures, representations and scenes, but presented in a distinctive light, with a visual language that was completely distinct from anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Connections

It is important to emphasize that these were not artists producing in solitude. They were in contact with the trends of world art, as can be seen by the reactions 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 domain in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement expressed 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 societal conflicts. 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.

Modern Influence

Two notable contemporary events confirm this. The eagerly expected opening of the art museum in the ancient city of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the most crucial 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 spotlight Nigeria's input to the larger 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 lived 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 influenced the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

The heritage persists with artists such as El Anatsui, who has broadened the possibilities of global sculpture with his large-scale 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.

Creative Viewpoints

On Musical Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a perfect example of the British-Nigerian innovative approach. She combined jazz, soul and pop into something that was entirely her own, not copying anyone, but developing a fresh approach. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it creates something new out of history.

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

Literary 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 seminal moment for me – it expressed a history that had influenced 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 mock the idea of Nigerian or African art. We looked for representation wherever we could.

Musical Social Commentary

I loved finding Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed shirtless, in dynamic costumes, and challenged authority. I'd grown up with the idea that we always had to be very guarded 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 rallying cry for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be boldly vocal and creative, something that feels even more important for my generation.

Modern Forms

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 certainty to know that my own experiences were enough, and that I could build a career making work that is confidently personal.

I make representational art that explore identity, memory and family, often referencing 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 combination became the vocabulary 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 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 overseas artists finding their voices.

Artistic Tradition

Nigerians are, essentially, driven individuals. I think that is why the diaspora is so productive in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a committed attitude and a group that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our ambition is rooted 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 common concerns while remaining firmly grounded in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how exploration within tradition can create new forms of expression.

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