Tomb effigy

Such funerary and commemorative reliefs were first developed in Ancient Egyptian and Etruscan cultures, and appear most frequently in Western European tombs from the late 11th century, in a style that continued in use through the Renaissance and early modern period, and is still sometimes used.

The religious beliefs of the societies that produced the earliest Egyptian effigies (which date to c. 2700–2200 BC, during the Old Kingdom) are unknown but are usually assumed by modern archeologists to have commemorated either fallen Gods or members of royalty.

[9] The Etruscan style influenced late Ancient Greek, especially in the manner of showing the dead as they had been in life, typically in the stele (stone or wooden slabs usually built as funerary markers) format.

The format proliferated across Northern Europe in the late 12th century as it became popular amongst a growing class of wealthy elites who often commissioned their tombs years before their death; often seeking to cement their historical or spiritual legacy or —especially in early examples— restore a reputation tarnished by political or military defeat.

[17] The historian Shirin Fozi recognises the influence of earlier formats, but thought that the idea of placing an "enlivened" representation of the dead above their grave is "too intuitive and too obvious to be read that ancient analogues were necessarily sources of inspiration.

"[18] According to the English historian Alfred C. Fryer, a "hastily made and lively effigy" of the deceased "in his very robes of estate" became part of the funeral procession, after which the representation was left either above or near the burial spot.

[23] Notable examples where the body was placed inside the chest include the tombs of Henry III of England (completed c. 1290) and Edward I (d. 1307), both in Westminster Abbey, London.

[26][27] By the 12th century, German, Dutch, Belgian, Spanish effigies largely followed the forms and iconography of the French models[27][28] and had begun to adapt elements of the emerging Gothic style.

[29] Romanesque effigies were typically carved from white marble or alabaster, and depict the deceased's body and face as they appeared in life, with no marks of illness or death.

[33][34] While the Romanesque and Gothic tombs were produced in great numbers —especially in France and England— it is estimated that over half were destroyed during the iconoclasm in the early modern period, and more again during the French Revolution.

[28] Those in the Temple Church, London are among some of the earliest examples and include the effigy of Geoffrey de Mandeville, Earl of Essex (d. 1144) and that of the Anglo-Norman statesman William Marshal (d. 1219), a benefactor of the Knights Templar who served Henry II.

[32] The main period of destruction was in the 16th century, during the Reformation led by Henry VIII, when many monastic settlements were destroyed, with casualties including many English royal tombs.

However, the iconography is believed to differ from English examples, and rather than denoting a knight killed on the battlefield, the pose instead probably symbolizes either the princely status of the deceased or according to the historian Jan Białostocki, "their state of quiet and blessed repose".

[21] While the structure of the tomb monuments stayed largely faithful to the earlier Romanesque and Gothic traditions, the iconography began to reflect the societal shift in attitude towards the dead.

This is seen particularly in the incorporation of secular and humanistic imagery, as earlier the religious imperatives behind tomb design, desire to licit intercessory prayer from the viewers to quicken the passage of the soul through purgatory.

The upper portion of the Tomb of Valentina Balbiani (d. 1572) shows her in life, with a book and dog, reclining in a restful pose reminiscent of Etruscan effigies.

Although the format remained popular in England,[69] it became especially rare in France in the wake of the Revolution: in 1793 the leaders of the French First Republic decreed the destruction of the "tombs and mausoleums of the former kings" (which were mostly at the Basilica of Saint-Denis) to celebrate the first anniversary of the fall of the monarchy and the collapse of the Ancien régime system.

[71] This change followed the general loss in religious belief following the revolution; Panofsky referred to European tombs after the 17th century as a "sceptical affair", while other art historians, including Fred Licht, noted a prevaling indifference towards funerary rites.

The two most celebrated medieval examples are those of Richard II of England (d. 1400) and Anne of Bohemia (d. 1394), and John I of Portugal (d. 1433) and Philippa of Lancaster (d. 1415), which Barker describes as "placing extraordinary emphasis on the love between the king and queen".

[87][88] Known as cadaver monuments (French: Transi),[c] these effigies show the deceased as an emaciated corpse, usually with closed eyes, wearing a shroud or naked (but with their hands arranged to preserve modesty).

[92] Usually intended as a form of memento mori, they show the human body's transition from life to decomposition,[93][94] highlighting the contrast between worldly riches and elegance and the degradation of death.

The verse below the illustration reads: "Take hede un to my fygure here abowne, And se how sumtyme I was fresche and gay, Now turned to wormes mete and corrupcoun, Bot fowle erthe and stynkyng slyme and clay".

[96] However, the art historian Kathleen Cohen notes some important differences to memento mori, primarily that Transi represent specific deceased individuals, and not death itself.

The impulse toward graphic expression of mortality in part reflects the societal shock and trauma following the Black Death, which hit Europe in 1346 and killed up to half of the population of Eurasia in the next four years.

Its aftermath saw, in 15th- and 16th-century literature, painting, manuscript illustration and sculpture, a pronounced emphasis on the macabre and memento mori, indicating a pre-occupation with the brevity and fragility of human life.

The convention reached a peak in the late 16th century, with the more extreme effigies depicting putrefied corpses outside of the funerary monument context, and taking centre stage as stand-alone sculptures.

As Barker points out, comprehensive and authoritative knowledge of such a large topic would necessitate "trespass[ing] on the preserves of archaeology, Egyptology, theology, the history of religion and superstition, philology, and many other [disciplines]".

[104] A further practical difficulty is that the many surviving examples are dispersed in churches, abbeys and cathedrals across a large temporal and geographical span, making comprehensive field research especially difficult.

[106] This was followed in 1964 by Panofsky's influential monograph Tomb Sculpture: Its Changing Aspects from Ancient Egypt to Bernini which was based on four lectures he had given and was the broadest and most comprehensive survey to date of European funerary art.

In a very positive contemporary review, the art historian Jan Białostocki praises Panofsky's lectures as a breakthrough but clarifies that its "treatment of the subject is synthetic and that only the most general outlines of tomb sculpture's development, both in the field of iconography and style, are given.