Thomas Banks was born in London and spent his childhood in the West Country. Banks returned to London after his schooling was complete in order to be apprenticed to the mason and ornament-carver William Barlow. Banks was regarded as the "most original British Neo-classical sculptors," dedicated to the antique spirit rather than solely the classical style (Dictionary of Art 183).

      In 1772 Banks received a stipend from the Royal Academy allowing him to travel to Rome. Ten years later marked a turning point in Banks’ career as he received a commission for the monument to "Thomas Newton." At this time, Banks began to establish his own market for church memorials. Soon to follow, Banks was elected RA in 1785, creating his diploma work, "Falling Titan." Banks’ greatest ambitions were memorials to "Captain Richard Burgess" and "Captain Westcott," both of which introduced the poetic style of art into national monuments (Whinney 332).

      Banks formed a life-long friendship with Henry Fuseli, an influence also to James Ward. The intensity that Fuseli often encouraged in Banks’ work resulted in "dramatically violent subject-matter, " which can also be found in the works of John Flaxman (Irwin 56). It is this stylistic element that provides the apocalyptic character to Banks’ sculptures.

      Two sculptures that clearly depict apocalyptic subject matter are "Prometheus and the Vulture," a life-size clay statue created in 1769, and his diploma work, "Falling Titan," which was created in 1785. Both statues direct one’s thoughts to Shelley’s Prometheus Unbound. "Falling Titan" is said to be derived from drawings which Banks and Fuseli created in Italy. Nearer than any other piece of English sculpture, "this work is in conception probably nearer to Burke’s view of the Sublime" (Whinney 325). Further commentary on this sculpture states, "The horrid theme of the giant and the rocks crashing into the abyss, and about to destroy the innocent pastoral life of the satyr and the goats, must have been given a shiver of pleasure, but the originality of the design and the assurance of handling must have been even more impressive" (Whinney 325). Of this same sculpture, John Thomas Smith writes, "in 1785, he was chosen an Academician, to the Council-room of which establishment he sent his Falling Giant; a work far superior to any before produced in England, and which, perhaps, never will be surpassed" (195).