Beleg van Kopenhagen door de Zweden, ter ere van Frederik III van Denemarken en zijn vrouw Sophie Amalia 1658

Editor: So, this medal—"Beleg van Kopenhagen door de Zweden, ter ere van Frederik III van Denemarken en zijn vrouw Sophie Amalia"—was made in 1658 by Monogrammist EP. It’s metal, done in relief. It looks like portraits of King Frederik and Queen Sophie. I can only imagine the kind of skill required for portraiture at this scale. These pieces carry such serious weight. How do you even begin to look at something like this? Curator: Ah, medals! Little time capsules, aren't they? It's easy to forget how vital they were as propaganda, as tangible expressions of power and dynastic ambition. I see a confident, almost theatrical flourish in these Baroque profiles – Frederik, all wig and pronouncements, juxtaposed with Sophie, a more classical visage crowned with laurel. Almost goddess like. Notice how the inscription dances around them, framing their images within a web of power and promise. Editor: I noticed the inscriptions, and assumed they were their titles? What strikes me is how static it feels, given that the title refers to a siege. I would have thought it’d feel more… chaotic? Curator: It’s interesting that you see stasis! To me, this controlled imagery, a serene, almost untouchable vision of royalty. It's deliberately detached from the grit and turmoil of war; the medal broadcasts not the battle itself, but the king's calm authority amidst it. Consider how these objects functioned, how they were distributed. How much faith in a metal object that might last centuries longer than your own rule do you have in securing your legacy? Do you suppose they saw them in similar way? Editor: I never really thought about medals as anything beyond mementos, but your points about Baroque expressions of power and propaganda helped reveal something much deeper. And propaganda with style! It’s amazing. Thanks for sharing your insight. Curator: And thank *you*! Thinking through a new lens is what these old artifacts encourage, no? Now I wonder what Frederik would have thought about this chat...