The ANS is pleased to announce a new image-zooming feature in MANTIS, the online database of its numismatic collection, and ARCHER, the Society’s digital archive. The ANS will now make its highest-resolution images freely available under a Creative Commons license, enabling researchers to zoom down into minute details of an object that were obscured in the lower-resolution images previously published. Furthermore, users may crop and download part or all of an image. More than 160,000 numismatic objects have been photographed thus far and are available in this new interface including the Syracusan coins of Arethusa and the Agnes Baldwin Brett collection of photographs of her travels in Italy, Greece, and Turkey in the early 20th century. This new image feature is built on the International Image Interoperability Framework, IIIF, a standard set of methodologies for the publication of images and metadata.
ANS Executive Director Ute Wartenberg said, “finally researchers can publicly access high-resolution images online to assist them in seeing minute details to help them in their work. This is something the ANS has wanted to do for a long time, and it has now become a reality.”
Beyond MANTIS, the high-resolution IIIF images of Roman Republican, Imperial, and Hellenistic coins will likewise be available within their respective online type corpora projects: Coinage of the Roman Republic Online, Online Coinage of the Roman Empire, and PELLA. These projects have supported the integration of IIIF images since January, when Rutgers University Library became the first Nomisma.org partner to publish their images in this way. Since then, the Bibliothèque nationale de France, Harvard Art Museums, and KENOM have provided high-resolution images according to the IIIF standard. These four Nomisma partners combine to provide images for more than 11,000 coins; the ANS extends this coverage by more than 55,000 coins for these three corpora.
While access to high-resolution imagery is itself useful for numismatic research, these methodologies form the building blocks for standardized image annotation. In the future, it will be possible annotate and link iconographic motifs, monograms, counterstamps, and signatures on bank notes to standard vocabularies of concepts, which will enable new modes of classification and query for numismatic objects. These visual features may be annotated not only upon the ANS’s own coins, but any Nomisma partner that provides images that conform to the IIIF standard.
Visual Artist Mark Wagner exclusively uses US dollar bills in his work, and has done so for decades. From creating collage-style portraits, still lives, and sculptures to an actual money tree, Wagner attempts to meticulously use every detail of the banknotes he works with. Wagner’s humorous, approachable, and culturally relevant pieces have made him a favorite of the New York City art world and beyond.
Over the years, Wagner has continued to create subversive works that offer a larger social commentary on money, economics, and beyond. In 2009 he constructed a 17’ x 3’ recreation of the Statue of Liberty entitled Liberty, made from pieces of over 1,000 dollar bills. Several of Wagner’s other works including, FROM DARKEST DECAY was featured at the Expo Chicago in September and his other work, CUT UP CUT CUT is on view at the Bellevue Arts Museum and will be traveling as part of a group exhibition through 2009. We sat down with Wagner to discuss his relationship to money, how he obtains the bills he uses in his work, as well as the larger personal and political underpinnings that fuel his art.
ANS: What first attracted you to working with money?
Mark Wagner: I’ve always been a sucker for paper culture—for different printing methods and graphic design styles, as well as different methods of illustration and text presentation. Everything from fine art printing, to common stuff like packing materials, and paper napkins. In the ’90s I’d been doing a lot of collage from a bunch of different materials, anything I could get my hands on. I always had a large supply of Camel Cigarette wrappers because a couple friends saved them for me. There was something about the familiarity of the package that made those collages effective, especial to Camel smokers. So, I tried to think of other popular pieces of paper I could use and settled on the single most popular piece of paper on the planet: the US One Dollar bill.
At first I loved the dollar bill for material reasons—it was readily available, the paper it’s printed on is super sturdy, more durable than literally any piece of paper you can buy from an art supply store; the printing on it is super fine, and anything you make from it is immediately familiar to the viewer on a subconscious level. It started to dawn on me what it meant to use MONEY. That money is not some neutral thing, it’s not like cutting up bus tickets or playing cards at all. That everyone has money issues and that addressing those issues with this material could make for some pretty OK art.
ANS: What is your process like in conceptualizing a piece and then getting the materials needed to create it?
MW: I’m always processing materials. I’ve got an assistant who helps me as well. We break down bills into rudimentary parts and build these up into shapes, textures, and passages that might be useful in the future—Bins of head parts, a binder full of constructed trees and other plant life, little hands, little birds, little figures of George Washington. Then I work from the other end as well. Drawing sketches and figuring out how I can deploy these “moves” to greatest effect. How I can use money to say something about money or sometimes just make something pretty.
ANS: How do you obtain the money used in your pieces?
MW: I get stacks of crispy ones directly from the bank when they have them. Sometimes I set aside crispy bills I receive as change. I like the small portrait bills from the 90s for the larger US denominations; usually I buy these on Ebay.
ANS: What is your attitude towards money?
MW: Money is basically a form of magic. Here is a substance I can transform into any other substance. That money and all our attitudes about money are a funny amalgam/chimera of everything money has ever been in the past. It is part honor-exchange, part commodity, part bank draft, part debt. Our last clear foci of money was as an amount of metal: here is a quantity of gold that can be exchanged for a quantity of some other substance. Or new foci, I think, will be more like the electricity inside a battery—here is a quantity of power I can use to perform an amount of work.
ANS: What are some of the broader themes you explore in your work in relationship to wealth and capitalism?
MW: I prefer subject matter that has a direct link with the materials. I use US bills for the most part anything Americana, American identity, or Founding Father-ish. I do portraits at least in part because of coin and currency addiction to portrait busts, sometimes the portraits are representations of some sort of human “value” trying to reclaim that word from its fiduciary use.
There are lots of representations of wealth in the work, architecture, leisure activities, lavish gardens, artworks. Concentrations of wealth have given us both some of the most beautiful things in our culture, as well as gross examples of decadence. There are lots of barriers and dividing lines depicted in the work—fences, hedge, walls. There’s a fair amount of menace. And there’s no shortage of both mystery and mythology. The thing is, I could represent anything out of money and it would seem like I was on topic and making a statement. If I depicted, say, the coffee cup sitting in front of me it would seem like I was commenting on the prices at Starbucks.
ANS: Do you think there is a gendered component to the work you create? And if so, what do you think that is?
MW: I hadn’t thought about this until you asked, but of course there is. There are no women on US bills I can easily cast as characters in my work. And money itself is probably considered a masculine thing. I do think the patience of execution harkens back to my Mom sewing, though. Quilts and embroidered samplers have informed my work as well as cropping up as subject matter.
ANS: What are some current projects you have in the works, and do you have any upcoming exhibitions?
MW: I’m just finishing up a 6’ x 4’ money tree. I’m making some dollar bill “Loan Ranger” masks. I’m making some portraits of at-risk children from Ghana. I’m working on a couple of essays about the nature of money and art. I’m working on plans for a 12’ x 18’ collage of movie monsters battling over New York City.
ANS: Do you collect any coins or other currency beyond $1 bills?
MW: Yes, mostly in a catch-as-catch-can manner. My coin collection started as a kid with a jar of European coins that my dad had brought back decades earlier from World War II. I came from a small town in rural Wisconsin, and I loved the connection to another place and time.
As a kid I loved—and still love to this day—a few of the coins from the jar, which had circulated for well over 100 years, worn almost completely smooth: Napoleon’s name, or one of the George’s only barely visible. I still have the US silver quarter and about a 1/4 of it worn away that I used for silver-point drawing in art school. I still have the silver quarter I was handed as change at the deli, that I recognized first by the unfamiliar, deeper note within the handful of jingle. I love the beautiful face on the Mercury dime and the oddness of the fasces on the back. I love the weight of the Franklin half-dollar which is judged most comfortable for practicing my finger rolls and palming.
I’ve got a small collection of paper currency. People know I like money, so they give me unwanted currency left over from their foreign trips. And I’ve got a small collection of late 19th, early 20th century stock certificates I love for the art and design’s sake—the decorative borders, the classicism meeting anachronistically with technology and modernism, all the rubber stamps and signatures and cancellations.
ANS: Have you run into any legal issues with cutting up US currency? If so, what happened and how did you resolve it?
MW: No legal issues so far. I think it’s pretty clear there’s no fraudulent intent in what I’m doing. I’m hurting no one. I’m generating a fair amount of economic activity, tax revenue, and seigniorage through my actions. I’m naughty, but safe-naughty.
ANS: Do you view your work as subversive and are there any political underlinings to your current work given the current administration?
MW: Subversive, I’d like to think so, but then again maybe I’m just commodifying my own dissent. My first reaction to the new regime art-wise was to try to ignore it. I’m still on that tack, trying to make pretty things or timeless things or the same sort of things I would have made a couple years ago.
Before the election I made a portrait of Trump for an art show. It hung in a voting booth next to a portrait of Clinton back in September of 2016. After the exhibition (but before the election) I burnt the Trump portrait because I’d really come to detest the man.
The history of images depicted on Arab banknotes is a study of visualizing modern nationalism. Egypt, for instance, issued its first banknotes on April 3, 1899 while it was still under British occupation (1882–1952). Over the course of the twentieth century to date, Egyptian banknotes showed images either of famous Egyptian mosques or of Pharaonic sculptures. The 2010 Egyptian Banknote is emblematic of this combination of a religious landmark and antiquity. On one side, the note depicts the mosque complex of Sultan Hasan, and on the other it shows Great Sphinx of Giza built during the Old Kingdom. The ANS also has several earlier examples of related paper currency (2011.47.6). While Egypt continued to modernize, its Islamic and Pharaonic histories not only animated the nation’s landscapes, but also defined its identity.
Mahmoud Mukhtar’s Egypt’s Reawakening (Nahḍat Miṣr) is an especially rare image of a work of art found on a modern Arab banknote. According to art historian Alex Dika Seggerman’s research, Mukhtar (1891–1934) first sculpted a model of Egypt’s Reawakening in 1920 as a commemorative work for the landmark 1919 revolution of Egypt. Mukhtar made the model in Paris for the 1920 Salon of French Artists. Egyptian students visiting Paris were moved by its symbolism and came back to Cairo to campaign for its large-scale public commission. The sculpture made of locally sourced granite was eventually installed outside of Cairo’s main train station in 1928, and subsequently moved outside of Cairo University in 1955.
In Egypt’s Reawakening a strong Egyptian peasant woman (fallāḥa) opens her veil to listen to the cries and hopes of the Egyptian public. With her steady hand she—the woman as nation—is connected to the symbolic historical artifact. This uplifting image of strength appeared on the 25-piastre (qirsh) banknote that had a short-lived issue from 1967 to 1976. The first issue of this currency (1967–1969) also featured a 50-piastres note with the al-Azhar mosque on one side and a statue of Ramses II on the other, consistent with the mosque/Pharaonic combination that dominates most of Egyptian currency.
While the gesture to Mukhtar’s nationalist sculpture on an Egyptian banknote may be seen as remarkable, its Pharaonic imagery assimilates it into the broader canon of designs for paper money. Although the depictions of Ramses II or the Great Sphinx are of great ancient sculptures, they are mediated through their modern designs appearing on paper money codifying them as part of a nationalist vocabulary. Mukhtar’s sculpture materializes these forms with another layer of mediation by adding a reminder of the present, the peasant woman, and demonstrates how powerful imaginings can become a poignant national symbol when evoking the past as a vision for the future.
 For an erudite analysis of this sculpture see Seggerman 2014.
For further reading on Mukhtar see:
Seggerman, Alexandra Dika. 2014. “Mahmoud Mukhtar: ‘The first sculptor from the land of sculpture.” World Art 4:1, 27–46.
ibid. “Mahmoud Mokhtar.” Mathaf Encyclopedia of Modern Art and the Arab World.
Alireza Khounani is a PhD candidate at New York University’s Institute for the Study of the Ancient World (ISAW) focused on Archaeology of the Near East and Central Asia before Islam. Alireza’s main area of interest is the Parthian period in Iran and the role of landscape and cultural hybridity in forming local diversities which manifests itself in the material culture of this period including coinage.
The Arsacid Empire (248 BCE–224 CE) spanned the largest period of antiquity in the Near East and western Central Asia and ruled over a vast area between Mesopotamia all the way to Central Asia. Succeeding the Seleucid Empire, the Arsacids followed the Attic weight to strike their coins. Noteworthy is that within their Empire, the vassal states, for instance Elymais, Persis, and Characene, were also allowed to issue their own coinage, which is seen as a sign of their strong local autonomy. Furthermore, these political powers, who were usually amongst the native royalties, had the right to practice their own religious beliefs.
This social and political diversification of the Parthian period in addition to the scarcity of solid evidence make it difficult to determine what religion the Arsacid kings themselves adhered to. Scholarly tradition claims that ancient Iranian Empires follow Zoroastrianism, an Indo-Iranian religion that survived until today whose main stress is on the preservation and maintenance of the eternal/sacred fire, which is considered to be the manifestation of the great god Ahuramazda. However, most of the evidence for ancient Zoroastrianism comes from post-9th century literary sources and we do not know for a fact what the religion of the Achaemenid, Arsacid, and Sasanian Kings was. Nevertheless, one prominent element, “pedestal fire-altar,” has been seen on rock-reliefs and coins, and has been discovered archaeologically. It is usually accompanied by a king in an investiture scene. It is important to clarify that within this context a fire-altar is the one—predominantly a pedestal fire-altar—that is supposed to guard and maintain the sacred eternal fire rather than the much more common sacrificial altar.
There has been a great deal of confusion over distinguishing fire-altars, especially in the case of Arsacid material where this image is very rare. For instance, the form of the object and the offering gesture of the figure on a reverse type of bronze coins by Artabanus II (Fig. 1) is a sacrificial altar that finds later parallels on Kushan coins as well. A pedestal fire-altar can be seen behind the image of Arsaces (ca. 250–211 BCE), the founder of the dynasty, on the reverse of a silver drachm by Phraates IV (37–2 BCE) minted in Mithradatkert (Fig. 2). This altar is strongly comparable to those found on the Achaemenid tombs at Naghsh-e Rostam, on the Parthian period coins of Persis, and on the reverse of the Sasanian coins. The presence of a fire-altar on a Mithradatkert issue is very meaningful considering it was the first Arsacid capital where Isodore of Charax reports to have seen the “fire of Arsaces.”
Recent scholarship suggests the existence of a ruler-cult in the Arsacid house. The image of Arsaces is present on almost all the reverse types of his successors; all who were titled after him. Ammianus Macelinus compares this royal practice to that of the “Caesars” of the Roman Empire. Deification of Arsaces can further be suggested by the title Theopater that some of his successors used, and also by the fact that he is, in several cases, shown sitting on an omphalos.
Fire has long been seen as a sign of royal power and as the element through which the spirit of kingship (or Farah) is transferred from a king to his successor. The fire-altar on the relief of Darius I at Naghsh-e Rostam is accompanied by the king who is receiving the ring of kingship from the “winged figure.” Sasanian Kings have their own kingly fire on a diademed pedestal altar shown on the reverse of their coins in a scene of investiture where the king is receiving a diadem from his predecessor (Fig. 3). There are also examples where a figure in flames is on top of the altar, who is suggested to be the ancestral spirit of kingship (Fig. 4).
The context in which a fire-altar is placed alongside the figure of Arsaces on a drachm by Phraates IV is comparable to that of the fire-altar and winged figure on Achaemenid reliefs; and the diademed fire-altar and figure in flames on Sasanian coins. It can be concluded that a form of Indo-Iranian royal cult with a focus on sacred fire was continuously practiced by Iranian royal dynasties throughout antiquity. This study attempts to demonstrate that the Arsacids were prominent actors in promoting this ideology and played the main role in developing its image and transferring it from the Achaemenids to the Sasanians. However, in order to confirm whether this royal cult was eventually evolved into a monotheist religion named Zoroastrianism after the arrival of Islam, requires much further investigation.
Fae Amiro is a PhD candidate at McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario. Her research focus is Roman portraiture, and she is currently writing a dissertation on the portraiture of the Imperial house during the reign of the emperor Hadrian, which addresses broader questions of portrait type creation and the dissemination of sculpture throughout the Roman empire. She was a participant in the 2017 Eric P. Newman Graduate Seminar.
The empress Sabina is not a figure who is frequently given much attention, due in part to her lack of prominence in the literary record. She was wife of the emperor Hadrian and they are said to have had an unhappy marriage, but not much else is known. Her coinage, however, has received more scholarly attention, because it was issued in larger numbers than that of any previous empress and features a good deal of variety in its portraiture. The question of the true chronology of her coinage has been debated for ninety years. However, few have addressed the reasons behind the changes observable in the coinage, in particular the impetus behind its start date and the introductions of new types.
In order to address these problems, I conducted a die study of the aurei which display the portrait of the empress Sabina. This had not previously been done and is the best way to form a relative chronological sequence for coinage. The die-link sequence confirms the following chronology for the portrait types which appear on the aurei. First is a type called the turban, dating to 128 C.E. (Fig. 1). The next type is Sabina’s main portrait type, the queue, which was probably introduced in the year 131 C. E. (Fig. 3). The Aphrodite type comes next, around 133/134, and was in use until her death and shortly thereafter. Following her death in 136/7, she was consecrated as a diva and a posthumous issue was created to commemorate this.
So, this answers the question of the true sequence of the types. The reasons for the creation of the last two types, the Aphrodite and posthumous types, are well understood. The Aphrodite is represented in a classicizing style, which is associated with Hadrian’s return to Rome after his trips in the east. The posthumous type was created to commemorate her consecration.
The impetus behind the creation of the other types is harder to address. The motivation behind the start of coining for the empress in 128, eleven years into Hadrian’s reign, is unclear. Previously scholars believed that it was because Sabina gained the title of Augusta in that year, but this has been proven incorrect by Eck and the results of the die study. Most likely a number of factors came together at the right time to inspire this change: the ten year anniversary of a reign was a common time for coinage reform, the imperial couple had just returned from a trip abroad and were about to embark on another one, there were no other Augustae alive at the time, and Sabina’s presence on coinage may have helped advertise the family’s prestige, given her relation to the imperial family of the previous dynasty. This last point is supported by the style of the portrait, which resembles that of her mother, Matidia, who was Trajan’s niece (Fig. 2).
Scholars have previously believed that the queue type was introduced to form a visual connection between Sabina and her predecessor, Plotina. However, there are a number of problems with this assessment. This message would have been redundant, since the turban already showed dynastic continuity, and untimely, since Plotina had died eight years previous. A side by side comparison shows that the very assertion that they look alike has been overstated, especially given the prevalence of ponytail-style hairdos among women at this time (Fig. 4). The motivation for the creation of the type is more likely the opposite, that it actually represents a stylistic departure from the previous dynasty and the introduction of a uniquely Hadrianic style.
More work needs to be done, but the results so far show that Sabina’s life events, particularly in association with Hadrian’s imperial travels, had an effect on the appearance of her coin portraits.
Tara Sewell-Lasater is a PhD student in the History Department at the University of Houston. Her work focuses on Hellenistic and Roman Egypt. She has previously worked on the role of women in Egypt during the Pharaonic period. Her dissertation will focus on the transmission of Greek and Roman traditions into Egypt and their subsequent envelopment into the Egyptian culture.
Queen Berenice II ruled in Egypt during the period of 246 to 221 BCE as the wife of Ptolemy III. She fit well into the Hellenistic period, which is known for familial infighting, extravagance, and outspoken female figures. From murdering her first husband, to participating in chariot races, eating her dinner with a pet lion, and finally being murdered by her own scheming son, she is an excellent example of all the drama the Hellenistic period could produce. She is perhaps most well-known from the poem by Callimachus, as retold by Catullus, which described the dedication of a lock of her hair at the temple of Arsinoe-Aphrodite and its subsequent catasterism. But, while these details of her life are dramatic and interesting, the most intriguing aspect of this queen is the coinage which was produced in her name.
Silver Dodekadrachm of Berenice II (Classical Numismatic Group VI.494)
The coinage of Berenice was minted in seven gold denominations and five silver. Some of them are exceptionally large; for instance, the silver dodecadrachms (also called pentekaidecadrachms) are some of the largest coins minted in a Hellenistic kingdom, second only to the 20-drachm pieces issued by King Amyntas of Bactria. These coins, and the other large and unusually weighted denominations of Berenice, do not seem to fit into the economic structure of the period. Egypt had a closed monetary system, and in 310 BCE Ptolemy I abandoned the Attic standard (with a silver drachm of 4.3 g) in favor of the Phoenician or Ptolemaic standard (with a silver drachm of 3.575 g). Thus, when Svoronos catalogued the Berenice coins in his 1904 work Ta Nomismata Tou Kratous Ton Ptolemaion and listed them as returning to the Attic standard, they quickly became a subject of contention for numismatists. This has caused historians and numismatist to question if the production of these coins had something to do with the Third Syrian War, or if, perhaps, they were minted outside of Egypt.
My project for the 2017 Eric P. Newman Graduate Seminar is a die study of the Berenice silver and gold coinage which attempts to answer some of these major questions.
For instance, one question about this coinage is which Berenice does it depict? As per Hellenistic tradition, the Ptolemies were fond of using the same royal names, and there were at least three royal Berenices at this time. This has led several historians, most notably Hazzard, to question if the queen on these coins was Berenice II or Ptolemy III’s sister, Berenice Syra. The die study and iconographic analysis conducted on the coinage has proven that the coins belong to Berenice II. There is a strong iconographic continuance between this coinage and that of her predecessor, Arsinoe II, that would have been useless to a Syrian queen. Additionally, these coins bear the inscription of ΒΕΡΕΝΙΚΗΣ ΒΑΣΙΛΙΣΣΗΣ (Berenike Basilissa); Basilissa was a title used by only a few Hellenistic queens, all of whom actively ruled, as Berenice II did while her husband was away during the Third Syrian War.
The biggest question of all is: on which standard were these coins minted? In the process of completing the die study for this coinage I gathered over 200 samples of the gold and silver coins of each denomination. The gold can be made to fit both the Attic and Ptolemaic standard through various formulas and the inclusion or exclusion of taxes. With the silver, however, lies the issue. My study will show that the silver denominations fit neither the Attic nor the Ptolemaic standard. The strange weight of the silver, then, calls the identification of the gold denominations into question, as the gold denominations were based on the silver. The study will also show that, although these coins did not fit either of the previously used standards, the coins were most likely minted in Alexandria for use within the closed system of Egypt. So, while my study answers some of the outstanding questions, such as who is depicted, where were these coins minted, and how many were minted, it also raises some new and important questions about the relation of this coinage to the weight standards of the period.
The American Numismatic Society cabinet contains a remarkable collection of Chinese coins and currency ranging from early bronze spade money (Fig. 1) and so-called “ant-nose” coins derived from cowrie shells down to more recent issues of the People’s Republic of China. Within this long parade of money, a watershed moment took place in the late third century BC when Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of a unified China (220–210 BC), introduced a new cast bronze coinage to be used throughout his empire. The coins, known in Chinese by their denomination ban liang (“half tael”), were circular in shape, like the contemporary coins of Greece and Rome, but included a square central hole that permitted them to be strung on cords for easy storage and transportation in an age before pockets (Fig. 2). Over the centuries the basic form of the ban liang was used and reused for new imperial coinages of different names and denominations like the wu zhu (“five-zhu”) and tong bao (“circulating currency”). As European trade with China expanded in the Far East in the seventeenth century, such coins came to be known in English as cash—a term derived from kaasu or kasa, South Indian (Dravidian) words for “money” often referring to a coin of small denomination.
While cash coins are interesting in their own right, not only in their role as currency, but also in Chinese tradition as talismans for the living, medicine for the sick, and assistance for the spirits of the dead. They are also remarkable as part of a growing corpus of Eastern coins brought to the shores of the United States and Canada early in the histories of these countries, largely unnoticed by the numismatic community. There is always something exciting about a coin discovered in a wrong or unexpected place. When this happens there is almost invariably a good story that goes with it.
Chinese cash coins have been recovered from Indigenous archaeological sites of the maritime fur trade period (1778–1850) along the northwestern coast of North America stretching from Alaska through British Columbia and into the contiguous states of Washington, Oregon, and Idaho. The coins were already being traded to Indigenous peoples of British Columbia by the late 18th century, as indicated by a meeting between the Spanish explorer Jacinto Camaño Moraleja and the important Nuu-chah-nulth (Nootka) chief Taglas Cania in 1792. On this occasion, Taglas Cania is reported to have arrived at the meeting wearing his finest apparel, which included a coat and trousers adorned with cash coins similar to the Qing (Manchu) Dynasty tong bao depicted below (Fig. 3). These were attached to his clothing like buttons, but seem to have been intended to announce the presence of their wearer by the pleasant tinkling sound they made when they struck against each other as he moved. The coins and their sound enhanced the status of the wearer, visually illustrating the chief’s important trade connections and providing him with his own theme music on occasions of significance. It has been claimed that the Tlingit peoples of Alaska sewed numerous cash coins to leather coats and vests not only as status symbols, but to serve as body armor in their conflicts with other tribes and Russian traders in 1802 and 1804. However, the military aspect of such clothing has been disputed, with some recent commentators arguing that it was primarily used as ceremonial garb. A number of Tlingit cash-encrusted jackets and vests can still be seen in public collections such as those of the American Museum of Natural History and the Canadian War Museum.
It is unclear exactly how long before the arrival of Caamaño the Indigenous peoples of the north west coast of North America developed their taste for Chinese cash, but 1788 seems most likely. In the spring of this year, the English captain John Meares sailed from the Chinese port of Guangzhou (Canton) with a complement of Chinese crewmen, and reached Nootka Sound on Vancouver Island. There he established a post for trade with the indigenous Nuu-chah-nulth peoples despite lacking permission from the East India Company to do so. It has been suggested that Meares’ Chinese crewmen may have begun trading cash coins to the Nuu-chah-nulth when they discovered the attraction of Indigenous peoples to articles made from copper—copper and brass pots had long been staples of European trade with the First Nations of North America—and that this chance trade became regularized in subsequent visits by English traders. On the other hand, it is just as possible that Meares purposely included cash coins in his cargo when he sailed out of Guangzhou in 1788 with the intention of trading them to Aboriginal peoples as trinkets in return for much more valuable seal skins.
Chinese cash coins remained a popular item of clothing decoration among the Indigenous peoples of the north western North America into the 20th century (Fig. 4), although by this time the supply brought by maritime fur traders was supplemented by coins carried by the large numbers of Chinese immigrants who came to work on the great transcontinental railways built in the United States and Canada in the 1860s and 1880s, respectively. Cash coins seem to have been preferred for adornment in part because they came ready for stringing and because they were obtained fairly easily. With a value equal to about one tenth of a U.S. cent, Chinese cash had virtually no use as money in North America. Nevertheless, when cash coins were not available, other coins, like U.S. dimes and half dimes (Fig. 5), were pierced by for the same decorative purpose.
It is worth noting that the custom of wearing coins as clothing adornment connects the Indigenous peoples of northwestern Canada and the United States not only to the Far East through their use of Chinese cash, but indirectly also to the Middle East. There many Islamic cultures had a tradition of piercing coins to be worn as part of a bride’s costume (most typically her headdress) on her wedding day. The ANS collection includes hundreds of examples of coins that have been pierced, some of which almost certainly received their holes in this wedding context (Fig. 6). It is from this custom that the term sequin (an English corruption of zecchino, the Italian name for the famous Venetian gold ducat and its imitations) enters modern parlance as the small, shiny disk-like decorations most frequently found sewn on to certain kinds of glamorous women’s apparel.
Coins found outside of their expected areas of circulation and put to unexpected uses are always a source of great interest. The case of Chinese cash in northwestern coastal North America is no exception, as the coins document the long-distance maritime trade between European traders operating from Chinese ports and Indigenous peoples and highlight the cross-cultural uses of coins as part of clothing. The modern states of Canada and the United States have prided themselves on being cultural mosaics and melting pots, respectively. The more attention paid to foreign money found in North America reveals these terms to be relevant just as much to coins as to people.
Several weeks ago, the ANS migrated an older, circa 2002 TEI ebook on the Taranto 1911 hoard, authored by John Kroll and Sebastian Heath, into our Digital Library. The original TEI file and subsequent updates have been loaded into our TEI Github repository. The updates follow transcription precedents that we have set in older ANS-published printed monographs as part of the Mellon-funded Open Humanities Book Program: relevant places, objects, people, etc. have been linked to entities in LOD systems, such as Nomisma.org. All of the objects within this hoard (itself linked to IGCH 1864) are in the British Museum and linked to their URIs. Upon publication into the ANS Digital Library, the document parts are now accessible from the IGCH 1864 record and in (eventually) in Pelagios, connected to relevant ancient places.
Since Sebastian is an active scholar, with an ORCID, this document served as a proof of concept for the next iteration of ANS digital publication: that our current and future monographs and journal articles, once issued openly online, should be connected to ORCIDs for their authors, and publication metadata should be submitted to Crossref to mint a DOI and enhance accessibility. Furthermore, since there’s a direct connection between ORCID and Crossref submissions, this new digital publication workflow would automatically populate an author’s scholarly profile with ANS publications. This is a vast improvement over the likes of Academia.edu, which requires manual submission. The broad vision is this:
Regardless of whether an author submits works through the American Numismatic Society Digital Library, Zenodo.org, Humanities Commons, their own institutional repository, or an Open Access journal system, their ORCID profile is the central, canonical aggregation of the entirety of their intellectual output (which includes datasets, software, etc.).
This aggregation system between DOIs and ORCIDs, following Linked Open Data principles, is the future of academic publication. Ideally, it should be expanded beyond citations to modern works with DOIs and ORCIDs to include more historic works defined by Worldcat and linked to historic scholars with ISNI identifiers. It would take a tremendous amount of work, but in theory, it would be possible to create a network graph of citations across all disciplines, going back in history to the advent of the printed book, charting the evolution of how knowledge is generated and disseminated. Therefore, Crossref, ISNI, and ORCID would perhaps play a greater role than providing simple (and superficial) citation metrics in enabling us to develop a broader historiography and analysis of scholarship itself. We plan to mint DOIs for our historical publications eventually, if Crossref extends its XML schema to support ISNI identifiers.
Under the Hood
Some extensions were implemented in ETDPub, the TEI/MODS publication framework that underlies the ANS Digital library. First, I authored XSLT stylesheets that would crosswalk TEI or MODS into the appropriate Crossref XML model according to their schema version 4.4.0. You can see an example of my MA thesis here:
If the author/editor URI matches an ORCID URI in the TEI, then the Admin panel in ETDPub will enable the publication of the metadata to Crossref. Similarly, within the MODS ETD editing interface (in XForms), a user can insert a mods:nameIdentifier[@type=’orcid’] under the mods:name for an author/editor in order to capture the ORCID. So far, only TEI or MODS records with ORCIDs attached to people are available for submission into Crossref to mint a DOI.
In the admin panel, if a document is eligible for submission to Crossref, a checkbox is available. Clicking on this will fire off a series of actions in the XForms engine:
The TEI/MODS-to-Crossref XML transformation is executed and loaded into an XForms instance
The Crossref XML is serialized to /tmp because it must be attached via multipart/form-data
Still having difficulty getting multipart/form-data to execute correctly in the XForms engine, the XForms engine instead interacts with a PHP script in CGI
After the PHP script responds with a successful HTTP code, the MODS/TEI document is loaded in the XForms engine in order to insert the DOI in the proper location within the document
The TEI/MODS file is saved back to eXist, and the standard publication workflow is executed (a chain of XForms submissions), updating the Solr search index and the triplestore/SPARQL endpoint
So far two documents in the Digital Library have DOIs connected to ORCIDs:
Gregory Callaghan is a PhD Candidate in Ancient History at the University of Pennsylvania, and a Kolb Fellow of the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology. Greg has a wide range of research interests, including Roman Republican politics and the evolution of Athenian democratic institutions. His main focus, however, is the international relations of the Hellenistic Period. His dissertation applies IR theories of status hierarchy and regional powers to the growth of the Attalid kingdom, examining Attalid foreign benefactions through epigraphy and archaeology.
One of the traditional lectures of the Eric P. Newman Graduate Seminar in Numismatics is entitled “Cistophoric Mysteries.” It is an apt name for a lecture dedicated to the cistophoric coinage of Asia Minor. Known as one of the ugliest coins ever produced, the cistophorus was introduced by the Attalid dynasty on a reduced silver standard, somewhere between 190 and 160 BCE. And that is more or less all that we agree on, with the exact date of its introduction, its nature of production, and to what degree it was a closed currency system still debated. But if we still scratch our heads at the nature of the early cistophoric coinage, this is nothing compared to our ignorance of the late cistophoric coinage. From ca. 105–60 BCE, a generation after the end of the Attalid dynasty, several Anatolian mints issued a second series of cistophoric coinage, which was followed by issues produced by these same mints under the direction of Roman magistrates. It is only now that these later issues of cistophori have begun to receive the scholarly attention they deserve. Helped in particular by the generous bequeathal of Rick Witschonke’s collection of cistophori to the ANS—undoubtedly the finest single collection of the coins in the world—Lucia Carbone and William Metcalf have forthcoming studies that investigate the late cistophori of Tralles and the Proconsular Cistophori, respectively.
My project for the graduate seminar picks up on these recent studies by examining the late cistophori of Laodiceia-ad-Lycum. This city is described by Strabo as one of the two great cities of Phrygia, along with Apameia—another late cistophoric mint. Hoard evidence suggests that it began minting cistophori around 90 BCE, and continued into the 60s BCE, when the mint switched from seemingly civic issues to issues stamped with the authority of the Roman proconsuls. My die study of the coinage shows that the mint had a stable output of cistophori through both periods of production. This may seem unremarkable, until we place this in a greater context, both chronologically and geographically. Under the Attalids, Laodiceia produced only 4 identified obverse dies, less than 2% of total cistophoric production. Yet it produced 46 identified obverse dies in the late cistophoric period. Furthermore, in the period of late cistophoric production, Laodiceia produced less than 10% of the total cistophori minted in the province, but it produced over 20% of the proconsular cistophori.
These substantial changes between periods of production need be explained. Until we have more complete studies of all the mints of the late cistophoric period, we can do little more than speculate. But it seems that around 90 BCE, something occurred at the local level that resulted in Laodiceia springing from a mint hardly worth mentioning, to one producing at the level of its more established neighbor, Apameia. In the decades that followed, as we become more certain of Roman oversight, it is clear that a Roman provincial policy developed that maintained the cistophoric production of Laodiceia, while dramatically cutting the production of other mints. My study of Laodiceia can do little more than draw attention to the existence of these situations, and cannot pinpoint the explanation behind them, but it does provide an important piece of the puzzle that I hope can be completed with the addition of further pieces as more of the late cistophoric mints are subjected to similar scrutiny.