A Palette Distinct from All in the West: How Nigerian Artistry Rejuvenated the UK's Cultural Scene

A certain raw energy was unleashed among Nigerian artists in the years preceding independence. The century-long rule of colonialism was coming to a close and the population of Nigeria, with its over 300 tribes and lively energy, were poised for a new future in which they would shape the framework of their lives.

Those who most articulated that double position, that tension of contemporary life and tradition, were creators in all their varieties. Creatives across the country, in continuous dialogue with one another, developed works that referenced their cultural practices 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 dream of art in a distinctly Nigerian context.

The influence of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the generation that gathered in Lagos and showcased all over the world, was deep. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its traditional ways, but adjusted to the present day. It was a fresh artistic expression, both introspective and joyous. Often it was an art that suggested the many facets of Nigerian folklore; often it referenced everyday life.

Ancestral beings, forefather spirits, ceremonies, masquerades featured significantly, alongside popular subjects of rhythmic shapes, likenesses and vistas, but presented in a special light, with a palette that was completely different from anything in the European art heritage.

Worldwide Exchanges

It is crucial to stress that these were not artists producing in seclusion. They were in contact 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 retrieval, a retrieval, of what cubism borrowed from Africa.

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

Contemporary Impact

Two notable contemporary events bear this out. The long-anticipated opening of the art museum in the traditional capital 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 forthcoming exhibition at Tate Modern in London, Nigerian Modernism, which aims to spotlight Nigeria's role to the wider story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors and artists in Britain have been a vital part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who lived here during the Nigerian civil war and crafted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, individuals such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have molded the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

The legacy continues with artists such as El Anatsui, who has extended the potential of global sculpture with his impressive 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 regeneration not only in the art and literature of Africa but of Britain also.

Creative Perspectives

On 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 completely unique, not imitating anyone, but developing a innovative style. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it creates something innovative 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, inspiring and intimately tied to Nigerian identity, and left a enduring impact 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 recently created work: colored glass, engravings, monumental installations. It was a formative 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 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 separated my family. My parents never spoke about it, so reading that book in 2006 was a foundational moment for me – it expressed 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 familiarity 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 Social Commentary

I loved finding Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed without a shirt, in dynamic 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 blend of jazz, funk and Yoruba rhythms – became a soundtrack and a call to action for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be confidently vocal and creative, something that feels even more urgent for my generation.

Current Manifestations

The artist who has motivated 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 focus on family, domestic life and memory gave me the assurance 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 referencing my own Nigerian-British heritage. My practice began with looking backwards – at family photographs, Nigerian parties, rich fabrics – and transforming those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the skills to fuse these experiences with my British identity, and that fusion became the expression 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 mostly overlooked 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 diaspora artists finding their voices.

Cultural Tradition

Nigerians are, fundamentally, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so prolific in the creative space: a innate motivation, a strong work ethic and a group that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more access, but our ambition 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 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 innovation within tradition can generate new forms of expression.

The dual nature of my heritage informs what I find most urgent in my work, navigating the different elements of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These connected experiences bring different priorities and interests into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these effects and perspectives melt together.