A Range Unlike Anything in the Western World: How Nigerian Artistry Revived Britain's Cultural Scene
A certain fundamental energy was released among Nigerian practitioners in the years preceding independence. The century-long dominance of colonialism was approaching its conclusion and the population of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and vibrant energy, were ready for a new future in which they would determine the context of their lives.
Those who most clearly conveyed that double position, that paradox of modernity and tradition, were creators in all their forms. Artists across the country, in continuous exchange with one another, produced works that referenced their cultural practices but in a contemporary 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 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 reconnect its historical ways, but adapted to modern times. It was a innovative creative form, both brooding and celebratory. Often it was an art that alluded to the many dimensions of Nigerian mythology; often it referenced common experiences.
Spirits, traditional entities, practices, cultural performances featured prominently, alongside common subjects of dancing figures, portraits and scenes, but rendered in a unique light, with a visual language that was totally different from anything in the Western artistic canon.
Worldwide Connections
It is important to stress that these were not artists working in isolation. They were in touch with the currents of world art, as can be seen by the responses to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a reaction as such but a reclaiming, a retrieval, of what cubism borrowed from Africa.
The other area 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 fermenting 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.
Modern Significance
Two significant contemporary events demonstrate this. The eagerly expected opening of the art museum in the historic center of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the most significant 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 upcoming exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to highlight Nigeria's role to the larger 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 resided 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 influenced the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.
The heritage persists with artists such as El Anatsui, who has expanded the potential of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who transformed Nigerian craft and modern design. They have extended the story of Nigerian modernism into the present day, bringing about a revitalization not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.
Creative Viewpoints
Regarding Artistic Innovation
For me, Sade Adu is a prime example of the British-Nigerian innovative approach. She fused jazz, soul and pop into something that was completely unique, not imitating anyone, but developing a innovative style. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it creates 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 powerful, uplifting and deeply connected 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, sculptures, monumental installations. It was a formative experience, showing me that art could convey the experience of a nation.
Written Significance
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 seminal moment for me – it gave voice to 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 exposure to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would mock the idea of Nigerian or African art. We pursued representation wherever we could.
Musical Political Expression
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 combination of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a musical backdrop 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.
Current Manifestations
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 concentration on family, domestic life and memory gave me the confidence to know that my own experiences were adequate, and that I could build a career making work that is boldly personal.
I make representational art that examine 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 methods to combine these experiences with my British identity, and that blending became the vocabulary I use as an artist today.
It wasn't until my mid-20s that I began finding Black artists – specifically Nigerian ones – because art education generally neglected 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 diaspora artists finding their voices.
Cultural Legacy
Nigerians are, fundamentally, hustlers. I think that is why the diaspora is so abundant in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a strong work ethic and a community that backs one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our drive is grounded 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 influential in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to common concerns while remaining deeply rooted 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 shapes what I find most urgent in my work, negotiating the different elements of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These intersecting experiences bring different priorities and interests into my poetry, which becomes a space where these impacts and outlooks melt together.