🔗 Share this article

Some primal force was released among Nigerian creatives in the years preceding independence. The century-long reign of colonialism was coming to a close and the population of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and vibrant energy, were positioned for a fresh chapter in which they would determine the nature of their lives.

Those who most articulated that complex situation, that contradiction of modernity and heritage, were creators in all their varieties. Creatives across the country, in continuous dialogue with one another, developed works that referenced their cultural practices but in a modern 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 reimagining the concept of art in a rigorously Nigerian context.

The effect of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the generation that assembled in Lagos and exhibited all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its traditional ways, but modified to modern times. It was a fresh artistic expression, both introspective and festive. Often it was an art that hinted at the many aspects of Nigerian folklore; often it incorporated common experiences.

Spirits, traditional entities, rituals, traditional displays featured prominently, alongside frequent subjects of dancing figures, portraits and vistas, but rendered in a distinctive light, with a color scheme that was completely unlike anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Influences

It is important to emphasize that these were not artists working in solitude. They were in touch with the movements 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 retrieval, of what cubism took from Africa.

The other field in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement revealed 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 show 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 reverse is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Modern Influence

Two notable contemporary events demonstrate this. The much-awaited opening of the art museum in the historic center of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the single most important 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 approaching exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to spotlight Nigeria's contribution to the broader story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors and creatives in Britain have been a essential 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, figures such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have molded the artistic and cultural life of these isles.

The heritage endures with artists such as El Anatsui, who has broadened 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 modern era, bringing about a revitalization not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Artist Perspectives

On Artistic Innovation

For me, Sade Adu is a prime example of the British-Nigerian artistic energy. She fused jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not imitating anyone, but producing a innovative style. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it makes something new out of history.

I grew up between Lagos and London, and used to pay regular visits to Lagos's National Museum, which is where I first saw Ben Enwonwu's sculpture Anyanwu. It was impactful, inspiring 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 significant Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of newly commissioned work: art glass, carvings, monumental installations. It was a developmental experience, showing me that art could tell the story of a nation.

Literary Influence

If I had to choose one piece of Nigerian art which has affected 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 foundational moment for me – it gave voice to 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 ridicule the idea of Nigerian or African art. We looked for representation wherever we could.

Artistic Activism

I loved finding Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in colorful costumes, and spoke truth to power. 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 combination of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a musical backdrop and a inspiration for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be confidently outspoken and creative, something that feels even more important for my generation.

Contemporary Forms

The artist who has inspired 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 confidence to know that my own experiences were sufficient, and that I could build a career making work that is boldly personal.

I make figurative paintings that explore identity, memory and family, often drawing on my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with exploring history – 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 fuse these experiences with my British identity, and that blending became the language 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 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 international artists finding their voices.

Cultural Tradition

Nigerians are, fundamentally, 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 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 firmly grounded in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how experimentation within tradition can create new forms of expression.

The twofold aspect of my heritage informs what I find most important in my work, negotiating the various facets of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These overlapping experiences bring different priorities and interests into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these impacts and outlooks melt together.