


As far as I know, only six carved coconut cups survive with depictions of indigenous peoples of South America and allusions to the activities of Dutch colonists in the Americas: the most famous of the six came from the Kunstkammer established by the Electors of Saxony and is now in the Grünes Gewölbe (Green Vault) in Dresden (inv. 5 On the other hand, there are representations, albeit rare ones, reflecting the exotic qualities of the material itself. 4 Carvings on the bowls of such vessels occasionally evoked biblical stories such as “The Drunkenness of Noah” and “Lot and His Daughters,” warning drinkers of the consequences of excessive consumption of wine. As early as the Middle Ages, coconuts were prized as valuable natural commodities possessing therapeutic and apotropaic powers hence they were usually worked into drinking vessels with costly mounts. Although typical of Kunstkammer objects in many ways, the cup is exceptional, if not unique, because of its political iconography. 9) illustrating the concepts of “savagery” and “civilization” in Dutch Brazil in the mid-seventeenth century. 3Īll the more remarkable, therefore, is a hitherto unknown coconut cup with reliefs ( fig. Only rarely did such exotica depict the actual activities of colonizers in a non-European sphere. 2 Exotic products, by contrast, usually alluded to a prince’s colonial achievements or ambition, referring vaguely to unsophisticated, remote lands as opposed to “civilized” Europe. 1 For example, turned art objects were charged with symbolism in the Kunst- and Wunderkammer context: they indicated the reigning prince’s ability to shape society, like raw material on a lathe, into a well-proportioned configuration. Concomitantly, they demonstrated that the ruler was in a position to define his territory by opening it up through science, to keep it under control, and to promote it. Whereas portraits on the wall illustrated the integration of the ruling dynasty into the spheres of politics and scholarship, scientific instruments and other precious artifacts positioned the prince closer to divine wisdom. This was especially true of collections owned by reigning princes, in which the exhibits were intended to attest both to the powers of divine creation and humans’ artistic potential and to the role played by the prince in shaping the society he ruled. Rather than an object attesting to political power, the carved coconut cup, like other “Brasiliana” from Johan Maurits’s collection, had come to be regarded as an objective illustration of Brazilian natural history.īeginning with the Renaissance, Kunst- and Wunderkammers confronted visitors with objects that were not only curious, rare, and precious but also informative about their owners: how they viewed themselves and what their aspirations were. 1800), its political message had long since been obscured. By the time Alexander von Humboldt owned the cup (ca. This process is easy to see in the provenance of the carved coconut cup. But when objects are integrated into a different collection context, they undergo a connotational paradigm shift. The same political message recurs on several other Brazilian artifacts once owned by Johan Maurits, who deliberately deployed his exotic Kunstkammer objects as diplomatic gifts to enhance his reputation as governor-general of Brazil. Featuring representations of cannibals and “civilized” aboriginals, the cup suggests that “savage” Brazil was “civilized” under the peaceful leadership of the Protestant count. A hitherto unknown coconut cup from Dutch Brazil with carved representations sheds new light on the furthering of knowledge through pictorial representation that Count Johan Maurits of Nassau-Siegen promoted in the mid-seventeenth century to add luster to his official image.
