The Dutch Republic was a federal state, consisting of seven more or less independent provinces. For understanding the field of gold- and silversmithing, this is of the utmost importance; although federal directives existed, in practice it meant each province had its own standards and regulations in hallmarking and its own methods, imposing those on makers and sellers alike. Fries Goud en Zilver (2015), a monumental synthesis, presented the range of Frisian objects preserved, from the ordinary to the very special. Using quantitative methods of social-economic history, Tussen hamer en aambeeld applies a different scope to give insight into the organization of the craft and everyday practice under the pressure of strong competition from outside the province, especially Amsterdam. A host of archival material is found, and for Bolsward, one of the eleven cities of Frisia, this book is the first to present biographical information in depth for all seventy-eight goldsmiths working there from the Middle Ages until the closing down of the guilds in 1795. The other chapters give an overview of Frisian regulations and a history of its guilds and patterns of trade, especially compared to Amsterdam.

The concept, argument, and above all conclusions show clearly why such an undertaking also requires a profound knowledge of the objects themselves and therefore involves the specialization of the art historian. No differentiation is made between the main categories of goldsmithing—jewelers, goldsmiths, silversmiths (in large and small works), chainmakers, and filigree workers—nor is the specifically Dutch position of the middleman understood. A whole range of pitfalls, therefore, opens to the unwary. That a trading network in jewelry existed, centered in Amsterdam, does not mean that this was the case elsewhere. Nor does Holland’s production of small objects (unmarked in the seventeenth century, since they were not considered worthy of the hallmarks) exported to and hallmarked in Frisia imply that an important part of the total production was in fact imported. Middlemen were not directly responsible for the fineness of the material of the Holland hallmarked works they sold. Since they risked huge fines when the material proved substandard, it is unlikely that vendors would have taken this responsibility away from the makers by marking it anew as their own.

This pattern was the same everywhere within the Dutch Republic but hugely affected by its subsequent scale. In 1664 Holland, a total of 687 ateliers were registered, about half of them in Amsterdam, but most of the other six provinces were also in a different league from the Frisians. With twenty-six ateliers only, Leeuwarden would range within the lower end of the middle group in size, with Bolsward and others among the smallest three. It would therefore be more logical to compare the Frisian situation to other regions, such as the centers in the triangle of Alkmaar, Enkhuizen, and Hoorn.

Virtuoso goldsmiths did exist in many of those places, and could raise the production far above the ordinary. Claesz Franszen Baardt (active 1654–94) is the major Bolsward example (Ter Molen [2015], nos. 30, 58, 138, 141, 142, 194, and 215). Although his work shows a clearly recognizable handwriting, and can be identified by his signatures and marks, Schoen concludes that no Frisian artists in silver effectively existed—all the more surprising, since all aspects of the art world are clearly indicated in Baardt’s biography (Schoen [2016], no. 43). Selling fine art in his shop, Baardt certainly was interested in form and design, the works themselves showing the fruit of those interests; the pattern of his clients all over Frisia and Holland also confirm that this goldsmith was valued as something special in his own time. It is to be hoped that the knowledge of historians and art historians alike will be combined in the future to finally unravel the riddle of the Dutch Republic in gold and silver.