🔗 Share this article

Some raw energy was set free among Nigerian creatives in the years preceding independence. The century-long rule of colonialism was approaching its conclusion and the citizens of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and ebullient energy, were positioned for a fresh chapter in which they would shape the framework of their lives.

Those who best expressed that dual stance, that paradox of contemporary life and heritage, were artists in all their forms. Practitioners across the country, in ongoing conversation with one another, created works that evoked their cultural practices but in a current 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 reimagining the concept of art in a rigorously Nigerian context.

The influence of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the collective that congregated in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was profound. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its ancient ways, but adjusted to contemporary life. It was a innovative creative form, both contemplative and festive. Often it was an art that alluded to the many facets of Nigerian legend; often it referenced everyday life.

Deities, ancestral presences, practices, cultural performances featured prominently, alongside frequent subjects of dancing figures, representations and scenes, but rendered in a unique light, with a visual language that was completely distinct from anything in the western tradition.

Worldwide Connections

It is crucial to stress that these were not artists producing in solitude. They were in dialogue with the movements of world art, as can be seen by the reactions to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a reaction as such but a reclaiming, a retrieval, of what cubism took from Africa.

The other field in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement manifested 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 simmering with energy and cultural tensions. 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.

Modern Influence

Two notable contemporary events bear this out. The eagerly expected 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 infamous 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 highlight Nigeria's role to the broader story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors and artists 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, artists such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have shaped the visual and cultural life of these isles.

The heritage persists with artists such as El Anatsui, who has extended the possibilities of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who alchemised Nigerian craft and modern design. They have prolonged the story of Nigerian modernism into contemporary times, bringing about a revitalization not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Artist Viewpoints

Regarding Artistic Creativity

For me, Sade Adu is a excellent example of the British-Nigerian innovative approach. She fused jazz, soul and pop into something that was distinctively personal, not replicating anyone, but producing a innovative style. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it produces something innovative out of history.

I was raised 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 compelling, inspiring and strongly linked to Nigerian identity, and left a memorable effect on me, even as a child. In 1977, when I was a teenager, Nigeria hosted the landmark Festival of Black Arts and Culture, and the National Theatre in Lagos was full of specially produced work: stained glass, carvings, impressive creations. It was a developmental 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 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 divided 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 influenced 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 make fun of the idea of Nigerian or African art. We sought out representation wherever we could.

Musical Political Expression

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

Modern 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 finding belonging. 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 representational art that examine identity, memory and family, often using my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with examining the past – at family photographs, Nigerian parties, rich fabrics – and converting 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 combination became the vocabulary 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 largely ignored 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 Legacy

Nigerians are, essentially, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a innate motivation, a dedicated approach and a network that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our drive is grounded in culture.

For me, poetry has been the main bridge connecting me to Nigeria, especially as someone who doesn't speak Yoruba. Niyi Osundare's poetry has been developmental in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to common concerns while remaining strongly connected in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how experimentation within tradition can generate new forms of expression.

The duality of my heritage influences what I find most urgent in my work, managing the different elements 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 influences and viewpoints melt together.