🔗 Share this article

A certain fundamental force was released among Nigerian practitioners in the years preceding independence. The century-long reign of colonialism was approaching its conclusion and the population of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and vibrant energy, were ready for a different era in which they would decide the context of their lives.

Those who most articulated that double position, that paradox of contemporary life and custom, were artists in all their stripes. Practitioners across the country, in continuous dialogue with one another, created 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 reinventing the concept of art in a distinctly Nigerian context.

The effect of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the collective that gathered in Lagos and showcased all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to rediscover its historical ways, but adapted to the present day. It was a new art, both brooding and festive. Often it was an art that alluded to the many aspects of Nigerian legend; often it referenced everyday life.

Spirits, forefather spirits, ceremonies, traditional displays featured prominently, alongside common subjects of dancing figures, likenesses and landscapes, but rendered in a special light, with a color scheme that was utterly unlike anything in the European art heritage.

Global Exchanges

It is crucial to highlight 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 reaction as such but a retrieval, a reappropriation, of what cubism borrowed from Africa.

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

Modern Impact

Two significant 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 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 focus on Nigeria's role to the broader story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian writers and creatives in Britain have been a essential part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who lived 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 influenced the visual and intellectual life of these isles.

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

Creative Viewpoints

Regarding Musical Innovation

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

I grew up 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 compelling, uplifting and deeply connected to Nigerian identity, and left a memorable effect 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 newly commissioned work: colored glass, engravings, impressive creations. It was a developmental experience, showing me that art could convey the experience of a nation.

Literary Significance

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 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 exposure to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would ridicule the idea of Nigerian or African art. We pursued representation wherever we could.

Artistic Political Expression

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed bare-chested, in vibrant 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 soundtrack and a inspiration for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be boldly vocal 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 returning to roots. Her concentration 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 unapologetically personal.

I make human form works that examine 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 converting those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the tools to fuse 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 largely ignored 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 international artists finding their voices.

Cultural Legacy

Nigerians are, essentially, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so productive in the creative space: a natural drive, a committed attitude and a community that backs one another. Being in the UK has given more access, 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 create new forms of expression.

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