A Palette Unlike All in the West: How Nigerian Artistry Transformed Britain's Cultural Scene
Some fundamental force was unleashed among Nigerian creatives in the years leading up to independence. The hundred-year reign of colonialism was nearing its end and the people of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and lively energy, were ready for a different era in which they would determine the framework of their lives.
Those who best expressed that complex situation, that tension of contemporary life and tradition, were artists in all their varieties. Creatives across the country, in ongoing dialogue with one another, developed works that evoked their cultural practices but in a contemporary framework. 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 dream of art in a rigorously Nigerian context.
The impact of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the generation that gathered in Lagos and showcased all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to rediscover its traditional ways, but adapted to the present day. It was a innovative creative form, both brooding and celebratory. Often it was an art that hinted at the many facets of Nigerian folklore; often it referenced common experiences.
Spirits, forefather spirits, practices, masquerades featured prominently, alongside popular subjects of rhythmic shapes, representations and landscapes, but rendered in a unique light, with a visual language that was completely distinct from anything in the Western artistic canon.
Global Influences
It is essential to emphasize that these were not artists creating in seclusion. They were in dialogue with the currents 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 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 foundational Things Fall Apart, Wole Soyinka's The Interpreters and Amos Tutuola's The Palm-Wine Drinkard are all works that show 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 reverse is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.
Contemporary Influence
Two important contemporary events bear this out. The long-anticipated opening of the art museum in the historic center of Benin, MOWAA (Museum of West African Art), may be the single most important 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 approaching exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to highlight Nigeria's contribution to the larger story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian writers and artists in Britain have been a vital part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who sojourned here during the Nigerian civil war and sculpted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, individuals such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have influenced the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.
The tradition persists with artists such as El Anatsui, who has broadened the possibilities of global sculpture with his monumental works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who alchemised Nigerian craft and modern design. They have extended the story of Nigerian modernism into modern era, bringing about a revitalization not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.
Artist Viewpoints
About Artistic Innovation
For me, Sade Adu is a perfect example of the British-Nigerian artistic energy. She blended jazz, soul and pop into something that was distinctively personal, not replicating anyone, but developing a fresh approach. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it makes something new out of history.
I grew up 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 powerful, uplifting and intimately tied to Nigerian identity, and left a memorable effect 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, sculptures, impressive creations. It was a formative experience, showing me that art could convey the experience of a nation.
Written 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 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 make fun of the idea of Nigerian or African art. We pursued 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 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 accompaniment and a call to action for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be confidently outspoken and creative, something that feels even more important 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 certainty to know that my own experiences were sufficient, and that I could build a career making work that is unapologetically personal.
I make representational art that examine 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 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 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 substantially. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young overseas artists finding their voices.
Artistic Legacy
Nigerians are, essentially, driven individuals. I think that is why the diaspora is so prolific in the creative space: a natural drive, a committed attitude and a network that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our drive is rooted 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 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 innovation within tradition can create new forms of expression.
The twofold aspect of my heritage shapes what I find most pressing in my work, negotiating the various facets of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These overlapping experiences bring different urgencies and interests into my poetry, which becomes a space where these influences and viewpoints melt together.