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A certain raw vitality was set free among Nigerian artists in the years before independence. The hundred-year dominance of colonialism was coming to a close and the citizens of Nigeria, with its over 300 tribes and ebullient energy, were positioned for a fresh chapter in which they would decide the nature of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that dual stance, that tension of modernity and tradition, were creators in all their stripes. Practitioners across the country, in continuous conversation with one another, developed works that referenced their cultural practices but in a modern setting. 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 remaking the vision of art in a distinctly Nigerian context.

The impact of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the generation that assembled in Lagos and exhibited all over the world, was profound. Their work helped the nation to reconnect its traditional ways, but adapted to contemporary life. It was a innovative creative form, both introspective and celebratory. Often it was an art that suggested the many aspects of Nigerian folklore; often it incorporated daily realities.

Spirits, ancestral presences, rituals, cultural performances featured prominently, alongside common subjects of moving forms, portraits and scenes, but executed in a distinctive light, with a color scheme that was completely different from anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Exchanges

It is essential to stress that these were not artists producing in solitude. They were in touch 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 reclaiming, a retrieval, of what cubism appropriated from Africa.

The other domain in which this Nigerian modernism revealed 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 simmering 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 opposite is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Current Impact

Two notable contemporary events demonstrate this. The much-awaited opening of the art museum in the traditional capital of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the single most important event in African art since the well-known 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 focus on Nigeria's input to the wider story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian writers and creatives in Britain have been a vital part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who sojourned here during the Nigerian civil war and crafted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, artists such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have molded the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

The heritage endures with artists such as El Anatsui, who has extended the potential of global sculpture with his monumental works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who transformed Nigerian craft and modern design. They have prolonged the story of Nigerian modernism into modern era, bringing about a regeneration not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Artist Viewpoints

Regarding Artistic 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 distinctively personal, not replicating anyone, but creating a new sound. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it makes something fresh out of history.

I came of age 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 powerful, elevating 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 recently created work: art glass, carvings, large-scale works. It was a influential experience, showing me that art could narrate the history of a nation.

Literary Impact

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 divided my family. My parents never spoke about it, so reading that book in 2006 was a seminal 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 sought out representation wherever we could.

Musical Activism

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed bare-chested, in vibrant costumes, and challenged authority. 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 blend of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a musical backdrop and a rallying cry for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be confidently expressive and creative, something that feels even more pressing for my generation.

Contemporary 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 certainty 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 investigate 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 transforming those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the methods 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 encountering Black artists – specifically Nigerian ones – because art education generally neglected 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.

Artistic Tradition

Nigerians are, fundamentally, hustlers. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a natural drive, a committed attitude and a community that encourages one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our aspiration 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 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 duality of my heritage informs what I find most important in my work, navigating the multiple aspects of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These overlapping experiences bring different concerns and curiosities into my poetry, which becomes a realm where these effects and viewpoints melt together.