A Palette Distinct from Anything in the West: The Way Nigerian Art Rejuvenated the UK's Artistic Scene

Some raw vitality was released among Nigerian practitioners in the years leading up to independence. The hundred-year rule of colonialism was nearing its end and the population of Nigeria, with its numerous tribes and lively energy, were positioned for a new future in which they would shape the nature of their lives.

Those who most clearly conveyed that double position, that contradiction of modernity and heritage, were creators in all their forms. Artists across the country, in ongoing conversation with one another, created works that recalled their cultural practices but in a current 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 remaking the concept of art in a thoroughly Nigerian context.

The effect of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the collective that gathered in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was significant. Their work helped the nation to reestablish ties its historical ways, but modified to contemporary life. It was a fresh artistic expression, both brooding and joyous. Often it was an art that alluded to the many aspects of Nigerian mythology; often it incorporated common experiences.

Ancestral beings, traditional entities, rituals, traditional displays featured centrally, alongside popular subjects of rhythmic shapes, representations and landscapes, but presented in a special light, with a color scheme that was utterly unlike anything in the Western artistic canon.

Worldwide Exchanges

It is crucial to highlight that these were not artists working in isolation. They were in contact with the movements of world art, as can be seen by the reactions to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a answer as such but a taking back, a retrieval, of what cubism took from Africa.

The other area in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement expressed 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 portray a nation fermenting with energy and societal conflicts. 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.

Current Impact

Two notable contemporary events confirm this. The much-awaited 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 input to the larger story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors 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, individuals such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have influenced the artistic and intellectual life of these isles.

The tradition continues with artists such as El Anatsui, who has extended the potential of global sculpture with his impressive works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who transformed Nigerian craft and modern design. They have prolonged 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 Viewpoints

About Artistic Originality

For me, Sade Adu is a prime example of the British-Nigerian creative spirit. She combined jazz, soul and pop into something that was entirely her own, not copying anyone, but producing a new sound. 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 repeated visits to Lagos's National Museum, which is where I first saw Ben Enwonwu's sculpture Anyanwu. It was impactful, uplifting and deeply connected 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 newly commissioned work: stained glass, sculptures, large-scale works. It was a influential 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 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 familiarity to Nigerian or British-Nigerian art or artists. My school friends would mock the idea of Nigerian or African art. We looked for representation wherever we could.

Artistic Activism

I loved encountering Fela Kuti as a teenager – the way he performed bare-chested, 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 musical backdrop and a rallying cry for resistance, and he taught me that Nigerians can be unapologetically expressive and creative, something that feels even more important for my generation.

Current Manifestations

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 concentration on family, domestic life and memory gave me the confidence to know that my own experiences were enough, and that I could build a career making work that is boldly personal.

I make human form works 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 translating 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 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 considerably. Afrobeats went global around a decade ago, and the visual arts followed, with young international artists finding their voices.

Cultural Legacy

Nigerians are, essentially, hard workers. I think that is why the diaspora is so prolific in the creative space: a inherent ambition, a committed attitude and a community that encourages one another. Being in the UK has given more exposure, but our drive is based 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 formative 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 exploration within tradition can generate new forms of expression.

The duality of my heritage shapes 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 overlapping experiences bring different priorities and curiosities into my poetry, which becomes a realm where these impacts and outlooks melt together.