Hollandse dukaat, 1738 1738

Curator: This week we’re highlighting a 1738 Dutch ducat from the province of Holland, currently residing here at the Rijksmuseum. It's gold, of course. A small, potent thing. Editor: It shimmers, doesn't it? Looking at it makes me feel greedy... in a good way? The texture seems both precise and somewhat roughly cast—like it was meant to be held, traded, its surface smoothed by countless fingers. Curator: Exactly. And think about the process—the mining, the melting, the minting—the sheer labor condensed into this single golden disc. You can almost feel the hands that shaped it. Editor: I like that the minting, or engraving process, gives us two distinct sides. One is figurative, featuring a standing figure. The other text heavy, enclosed by this decorative baroque square. Curator: That figure, you know, embodies Dutch power and prosperity during the era. The bundle of arrows he carries, the “concordia res parvae crescunt” inscription, signaling strength in unity, even from small beginnings. Editor: It’s propaganda, beautiful propaganda! I love thinking about how a coin could broadcast that kind of message as it traveled from merchant to baker to...whoever dug it up later! It’s survived almost three centuries. That’s a successful campaign! Curator: Its scale is essential; something small can accumulate considerable capital, or momentum over time. It echoes those famous sentiments of tiny acorns, mighty oaks. Even humble Holland growing into an empire. Editor: Looking at the images it makes me ponder the paradox that so much violence and inequality were needed for this pretty, shiny thing to be made... and travel and endure! Curator: Indeed, and art, or even currency, reflects the tensions inherent in its historical moment. Thinking of the resources and hands required to forge this tiny symbol is pretty mind blowing. Editor: Absolutely. The gold speaks of trade, power, unity... and then the human cost of all those things quietly glimmers too. I’ll never look at a coin the same way!