YN Corner: On The Other Side Of The Coin

Cornelius Vermeule’s argument in his 1971 treatise Numismatic Art in America that coins “are the only class of sculpture that a large segment of the population ever handles” is one that has profoundly shaped my engagement with numismatics. The world coins gifted to me by my grandparents when I was nine years old captured my interest not merely by virtue of their distinctive designs — already, at that time, more compelling to me than the stylistically dreary world of much U.S. federal coinage — but also through the realization that this was art made to be handled and learned from and shared widely.

It was, and still is, a most political form of art: endorsed by a government as sufficiently representative of national values to serve as the basis for commerce, a messaging apparatus to citizens, and a record for posterity. That numismatic art — even at its most utilitarian — could be reverse-engineered by collectors in order to glean deep, uncompromising insights into the society that produced it was irresistible to someone who loves history and politics as much as I do. As Elvira Clain-Stefanelli notes in her 1985 Numismatic Bibliography, “To collect coins without trying to explain their historical background is a senseless enterprise.”

My sustained interest in the hobby over the 11 years since has, both consciously and unconsciously, been driven by this fascination with numismatic objects as interdisciplinary lenses into the past. Montroville Dickeson’s assertion in his 1859 American Numismatical Manual that “a coin […] is an index to the people who originally issued it” has been particularly influential for me, and I have found that my collecting interests have evolved accordingly. My pursuit of coins, tokens, medals, and banknotes that were made under unusual circumstances undoubtedly springs out of this fascination, as does my collection of trade tokens from my hometown; how better to understand, tangibly, the city’s dynamic history?

Similarly, my passion for numismatic literature is driven by my appreciation for the historical, artistic, economic, and anthropological analysis of minds greater than my own with the objects we collect. In line with my academic pursuits — a double major in international affairs and political science at George Washington University — I have recently begun a collection that attempts to trace the international geopolitical transformations of the 20th century, as well as a collection of the medals produced by the university. My set of sample slabs, on the other hand, is the black sheep of my collecting interests, driven by an inexplicable appreciation for the niche — or, perhaps, a subconscious desire to bankrupt myself pursuing a sixth collecting area — rather than any identifiable intellectual rationale.

In April 2023, I was appointed to the Citizens Coinage Advisory Committee, through which I currently help advise the U.S. Treasury secretary on American coin and medal designs. The role has been an interesting one, in no small part, because I am now on the other side of the coin, as it were. Being involved with the selection of the sculptures that a large part of the population handles, attempting to capture the breadth and depth of the American story on objects measured in millimeters, contemplating whether these pieces really are indices of the country out of which they came — all of this has been rather imperfect and messy, but fascinating.

My future involvement with numismatics is unlikely to be a professional one. However, I am hopeful that through my work with the committee, I can leave some worthwhile impact on our hobby and our country at large.