Inname van Naarden door Willem III 1673

Curator: Oh, look at this, it's a shiny little thing, isn't it? Feels cold, aloof somehow. Editor: Indeed, this is a silver medal from 1673. It depicts the Capture of Naarden by William III. Curator: Naarden! A pretty brutal event if I remember correctly. Seems a little…celebratory for such violence, perhaps? The portrait's almost too noble, like a saint or something. Editor: The medal obviously presents a particular point of view, highlighting Willem III's power and control. Note how this image emerged during a fraught political era where identity, particularly Dutch identity, was very contested. Curator: Yes, I suppose, what's a medal if not propaganda in shiny clothes? But I must say, the execution is quite something. Tiny soldiers, tiny houses…all that drama compressed into the size of my palm. Editor: Exactly, it encapsulates baroque sensibilities with its detailed, albeit miniaturized, depiction of both the city and its captor. It's a political object as much as it is an aesthetic one. The inscription is also important here… Curator: Oh, tell me! I'm already wondering what noble platitudes it whispers. Editor: "The Siege and Capture of Naarden." It serves as a record, framing a pivotal historical event. Medals such as these were tools used to construct public memory and legitimize power. Curator: Still…all that death rendered in glistening silver. The artistry is captivating, even if its intention leaves me feeling a bit…icky? Does that make sense? Like a guilty pleasure, perhaps. I feel uneasy but want to possess it and reflect. Editor: It resonates profoundly when considering these power dynamics, reflecting how rulers were presented, perceived, and remembered. Think about that image-making process...it still matters. Curator: Mmm. Something small and cool can carry such immense weight, no? It makes you wonder about the stories we choose to celebrate and, of course, the ones we leave unsaid, untarnished. Editor: Precisely. By interrogating what's absent—whose narratives are prioritized—we begin to discern the nuanced dynamics of remembrance and power. Curator: True, true. Shiny but complicated. Editor: Always.