As a three-dimensional, life size monument, the sarcophagus of Seianti Hanunia TIesnasa is immediately an eye-catching object. Now situated in the British Museum, it forms the paramount piece of the Etruscan collection. Both effigy, tomb and the skeleton within have been valuable for wider research on Etruscan artistic styles and methods, as well as the role of elite women in the society of Chiusi where the figure in question was originally from and buried. Though its paint work still remains, the tomb monument would have been more heavily decorated in its original form, now offering mere glimpses of the skilled hand of the artist(s) who designed and produced the structure. The maker was aware of the multiple functions of the tomb, not just for housing the dead but allowing the body to be recognisable in the afterlife and producing an accessible portrait for memorialisation, all tied together through the creation of an architectonic, three-dimensional structure that commanded the tomb chamber.
As a masterpiece of Etruscan art, the tomb and sculpture of Seianti is widely written on and thoroughly researched. The name is found inscribed on the sarcophagus itself, furthering the ideas of memorialisation and connecting this life to the next. From the skeleton, researchers have discerned a woman who died aged 50-55, so this portrait is not a likeness in death but an idealisation of youthful beauty. Her smooth skin, dark hair and graceful fingers that lift the veil from her face are contrasted with a monumental, strong body and thick, muscular arms. Etruscan women were known to be active and the skeleton of Seianti corroborates – her thighs were particularly toned, as was customary for horse riders. The folds of her dress, pinched at the shoulders, drape across her breasts and outline her body, expertly pulled around the raised, bent knees of the figure. Seianti is lifelike, pulling her veil back to more fully reveal her beauty, whilst she seems to be shifting her weight right in front of us or even uncurling herself ready to stand up before us in her full stature.
As mentioned, the sarcophagus and sculpture are painted, which is most prominent on the simple relief work that decorates the sarcophagus itself, producing a pseudo-triglyph design and floral motif. Seianti does not seem to just sit on a stone table but becomes part of an imaginary frieze that sits atop the entablature of a wider temple design, evoking Classical goddesses. Her lavish dress, crown and array of gold jewels furthers the connotations of divinity. Staring at her own reflection in a mirror painted with Egyptian blue – a highly sought-after pigment – again links to depictions of Venus. Scholars have speculated as to why she is veiled, perhaps a link to her marriage and suggesting a commission by a husband. Equally, confusion reins as to why such a grand portrait and sarcophagus were positioned in a tomb chamber that was devoid of decoration and offerings, with only simple silver objects to complement the magnificent effigy. Perhaps Seianti wished the focus to remain on her and her own memorialisation, instead of materialistic distraction in the form of offerings. This is the legacy of Seianti’s tomb, commanding the viewer’s attention even in its decontextualised museum form today. It presents a tantalising story of an Etruscan elite woman, cosmopolitan and active in society, almost as tantalising as the gaze of Seianti, who does not quite look to us but onward, in serene contemplation.
Comments
Post a Comment