A Palette Different from Anything in the West: How Nigerian Art Revived Britain's Artistic Scene

A certain raw energy was unleashed among Nigerian artists in the years leading up to independence. The century-long dominance of colonialism was approaching its conclusion and the citizens of Nigeria, with its more than three hundred tribes and vibrant energy, were positioned for a new future in which they would determine the nature of their lives.

Those who most articulated that complex situation, that tension of modernity and custom, were creators in all their forms. Artists across the country, in continuous conversation with one another, created works that evoked their cultural practices but in a current setting. Artists 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 distinctly Nigerian context.

The influence of the works created by the Zaria Art Society, the group that congregated in Lagos and displayed all over the world, was deep. Their work helped the nation to reconnect its historical ways, but modified to modern times. It was a fresh artistic expression, both brooding and joyous. Often it was an art that suggested the many facets of Nigerian mythology; often it referenced daily realities.

Deities, ancestral presences, rituals, traditional displays featured centrally, alongside common subjects of rhythmic shapes, portraits and landscapes, but executed in a unique light, with a palette that was utterly different from anything in the Western artistic canon.

International Exchanges

It is essential to emphasize that these were not artists working in solitude. They were in contact with the currents of world art, as can be seen by the responses to cubism in many works of sculpture. It was not a answer as such but a retrieval, a retrieval, of what cubism took from Africa.

The other field in which this Nigerian contemporary art movement manifested 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 depict 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 reverse is also true. We carry in our worlds that have failed, our worlds that flourish.

Contemporary Influence

Two important contemporary events demonstrate this. The much-awaited opening of the art museum in the ancient city 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 focus on Nigeria's input to the broader story of modern art and British culture. Nigerian authors and creatives in Britain have been a crucial part of that story, not least Ben Enwonwu, who lived here during the Nigerian civil war and sculpted Queen Elizabeth II in the 50s. For almost 100 years, artists such as Uzo Egonu, Demas Nwoko and Bruce Onobrakpeya have influenced the visual and cultural life of these isles.

The legacy persists with artists such as El Anatsui, who has broadened the opportunities of global sculpture with his monumental works, and ceramicist Ladi Kwali, who alchemised Nigerian craft and modern design. They have prolonged 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 Perspectives

On Musical Innovation

For me, Sade Adu is a excellent example of the British-Nigerian innovative approach. She blended jazz, soul and pop into something that was distinctively personal, not imitating anyone, but developing a fresh approach. That is what Nigerian modernism does too: it makes something fresh out of history.

I grew up between Lagos and London, and used to pay frequent visits to Lagos's National Museum, which is where I first saw Ben Enwonwu's sculpture Anyanwu. It was powerful, inspiring and strongly linked 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 newly commissioned work: colored glass, carvings, impressive creations. It was a formative experience, showing me that art could tell the story of a nation.

Literary Influence

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 pivotal 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 ridicule the idea of Nigerian or African art. We sought out representation wherever we could.

Artistic Social Commentary

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 cautious 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 boldly vocal and creative, something that feels even more pressing for my generation.

Contemporary Forms

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 finding belonging. Her focus on family, domestic life and memory gave me the assurance to know that my own experiences were sufficient, and that I could build a career making work that is unapologetically personal.

I make figurative paintings that explore 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 converting those memories into paint. Studying British painting techniques and historic composition gave me the skills to combine these experiences with my British identity, and that combination became the language 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 mostly overlooked 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.

Cultural Tradition

Nigerians are, basically, hustlers. I think that is why the diaspora is so productive in the creative space: a natural drive, a committed attitude and a community that supports one another. Being in the UK has given more opportunity, but our aspiration 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 developmental in showing how Nigerian writers can speak to shared experiences while remaining deeply rooted in their culture. Similarly, the work of Prof Molara Ogundipe and Gabriel Okara demonstrates how experimentation within tradition can produce new forms of expression.

The twofold aspect of my heritage informs what I find most important in my work, negotiating the multiple aspects of my identity. I am Nigerian, I am Black, I am British, I am a woman. These intersecting experiences bring different concerns and inquiries into my poetry, which becomes a arena where these effects and outlooks melt together.