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Some primal vitality was unleashed among Nigerian practitioners in the years leading up to independence. The hundred-year reign of colonialism was approaching its conclusion and the citizens of Nigeria, with its over 300 tribes and lively energy, were positioned for a different era in which they would determine the nature of their lives.

Those who most articulated that dual stance, that paradox of modernity and tradition, were creators in all their forms. Artists across the country, in constant conversation with one another, created works that referenced their traditions but in a modern context. 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 impact of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the group that congregated in Lagos and showcased all over the world, was deep. Their work helped the nation to rediscover its ancient ways, but modified to contemporary life. It was a fresh artistic expression, both contemplative and joyous. Often it was an art that hinted at the many aspects of Nigerian folklore; often it referenced everyday life.

Ancestral beings, ancestral presences, practices, traditional displays featured prominently, alongside frequent subjects of moving forms, representations and scenes, but presented in a special light, with a color scheme that was utterly distinct from anything in the Western artistic canon.

International Exchanges

It is essential to stress that these were not artists working in solitude. They were in touch with the trends 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 taking back, a reappropriation, of what cubism borrowed from Africa.

The other domain in which this Nigerian modernism expressed itself is in the Nigerian novel. Works such as Chinua Achebe's influential Things Fall Apart, Wole Soyinka's The Interpreters and Amos Tutuola's The Palm-Wine Drinkard are all works that show 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 opposite is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Contemporary Significance

Two notable contemporary events demonstrate 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 upcoming exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to spotlight Nigeria's role to the wider story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian writers and artists in Britain have been a crucial part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who lived here during the Nigerian civil war and crafted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, figures such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have shaped the visual and cultural life of these isles.

The legacy persists 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 extended the story of Nigerian modernism into contemporary times, bringing about a renewal not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Artist Viewpoints

Regarding Musical Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a perfect 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 new sound. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it creates something innovative 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, uplifting 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 important Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of specially produced work: art glass, engravings, impressive creations. It was a formative experience, showing me that art could convey the experience 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 affected my family. My parents never spoke about it, so reading that book in 2006 was a pivotal 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 familiarity 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.

Musical Activism

I loved encountering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed shirtless, in vibrant 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 blend of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a accompaniment and a rallying cry for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be unapologetically expressive and creative, something that feels even more urgent for my generation.

Current 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 emphasis on family, domestic life and memory gave me the assurance to know that my own experiences were adequate, and that I could build a career making work that is unapologetically personal.

I make figurative paintings that examine identity, memory and family, often using my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with exploring history – 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 blend 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 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 significantly. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young international artists finding their voices.

Artistic Tradition

Nigerians are, essentially, hustlers. I think that is why the diaspora is so prolific in the creative space: a innate motivation, a committed attitude and a network 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 formative in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to universal themes while remaining strongly connected 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 duality of my heritage shapes what I find most pressing in my work, negotiating the multiple aspects of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These intersecting experiences bring different urgencies and interests into my poetry, which becomes a realm where these effects and outlooks melt together.