Inkomst van Albertus en Isabella in Vlaanderen 1600

Editor: We’re looking at a small metal print from around 1600, residing in the Rijksmuseum. It’s called “Inkomst van Albertus en Isabella in Vlaanderen," and depicts…well, it looks like an old coin! I'm intrigued by the material, the wear and tear it must have experienced over the centuries. What can you tell me about what’s going on here? Curator: Oh, yes! This little coin isn’t just currency; it's a time capsule, a whisper from the past. Think of it as propaganda, pocket-sized. Albert and Isabella's "joyous entry" into Flanders, immortalized not in paint but etched in metal. What stories did it witness? Did someone nervously clutch it during turbulent times? Was it a symbol of hope or oppression, depending on who held it? What do you make of the little square hole? Editor: Hmm, I wonder if the hole was added later so it could be worn as a pendant, like a memento. I'm guessing it must have been quite common back then to keep a coin like that for special occasions. Curator: Exactly! Imagine wearing a piece of history. And consider the impact of this seemingly small object. Each coin was touched by countless hands. But did it actually unite a divided population, or simply line the pockets of the elite? Were Albert and Isabella viewed as benevolent rulers, or symbols of foreign domination? That's what I want to know. Editor: So, it's not just about the image itself, but the stories the coin carries and the questions it evokes? Curator: Precisely! It's a starting point, a keyhole through which we can glimpse a complex and fascinating era. And that, my dear, is the magic of art.