🔗 Share this article

Some fundamental force was set free among Nigerian creatives in the years preceding independence. The century-long dominance of colonialism was approaching its conclusion and the people of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and vibrant energy, were positioned for a new future in which they would shape the framework of their lives.

Those who most articulated that complex situation, that tension of contemporary life and heritage, were artists in all their varieties. Creatives across the country, in constant exchange with one another, developed works that recalled 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 reinventing the concept of art in a distinctly Nigerian context.

The impact of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the collective that assembled in Lagos and exhibited all over the world, was profound. Their work helped the nation to reconnect its ancient ways, but adjusted to contemporary life. It was a fresh artistic expression, both contemplative and celebratory. Often it was an art that alluded to the many aspects of Nigerian folklore; often it incorporated daily realities.

Deities, forefather spirits, ceremonies, masquerades featured prominently, alongside common subjects of dancing figures, representations and scenes, but rendered in a distinctive light, with a color scheme that was utterly different from anything in the western tradition.

Worldwide Connections

It is essential to stress that these were not artists working in isolation. They were in touch with the movements of world art, as can be seen by the responses to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a response as such but a reclaiming, a reappropriation, of what cubism borrowed from Africa.

The other domain in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement manifested 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 portray a nation bubbling 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 contrary is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Contemporary Significance

Two significant contemporary events bear this out. The much-awaited opening of the art museum in the historic center of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the most crucial 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 upcoming exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to spotlight Nigeria's input to the wider 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 resided 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 shaped the visual and cultural life of these isles.

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

Artist Perspectives

About Artistic Innovation

For me, Sade Adu is a prime example of the British-Nigerian creative spirit. She combined jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not copying anyone, but producing a fresh approach. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it produces something fresh out of history.

I was raised 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 impactful, inspiring and intimately tied to Nigerian identity, and left a lasting impression 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 recently created work: art glass, engravings, impressive creations. It was a formative experience, showing me that art could tell the story of a nation.

Literary Significance

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 gave voice to 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 mock the idea of Nigerian or African art. We sought out representation wherever we could.

Musical Political Expression

I loved discovering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed bare-chested, in vibrant costumes, and confronted establishment. 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 fusion of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a soundtrack and a inspiration for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be boldly expressive and creative, something that feels even more important for my generation.

Modern 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 returning to roots. 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 confidently personal.

I make human form works that investigate identity, memory and family, often referencing 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 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 substantially. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young international artists finding their voices.

Artistic Heritage

Nigerians are, basically, driven individuals. I think that is why the diaspora is so productive in the creative space: a natural drive, a committed attitude and a group that backs 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 developmental 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 experimentation within tradition can create new forms of expression.

The twofold aspect of my heritage influences what I find most important in my work, navigating the various facets of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These connected experiences bring different priorities and inquiries into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these influences and viewpoints melt together.