Gold and silver have been the basis of international currency since ancient times. As gold became rarer, silver's importance grew: from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century, no precious metal more directly expressed princely power.

Dug from deposits in Hungary, Saxony, the Alps, and, after the 1540s, the Spanish colonies in Mexico and Peru, silver dominated the European economy. Rulers such as the Electors of Saxony in Dresden employed court engineers and scientists to improve mining techniques and increase their yield. Brilliantly designed display pieces fashioned from silver signaled territorial wealth and power, and princes showed them off in their banquet halls and treasuries. Some princes dressed up as miners during courtly entertainments, carrying tools of the trade transformed by the inclusion of jewels.

Suites of silver furniture became particularly fashionable, but few survived for long. The material value of silver as currency put these objects in constant danger of being melted down and repurposed as coin during difficult times. Rare even in their time, the monumental silver pieces in this gallery are precious survivors of the expensive demands of the period.

Many marvels collected in this era were valued for the insight they provided into the natural world. Sensory engagement became an accepted method of understanding nature, and it was joined with theoretical knowledge studied from printed texts to form a "new science." The opportunity to examine natural materials, particularly those brought to Europe from foreign lands, promised new discoveries. Novel specimens inspired goldsmiths, who enshrined them in mounts of precious metal ingeniously designed to complement their beauty and express what was known of their attributes and origins. The techniques craftspeople used to transform prized objects such as shells or coconuts into works of art required a deep familiarity with natural materials and their veiled properties that was esteemed by scholars and princes alike.

Each of the remarkable pieces in this gallery proved the maker's—and by extension the owner's—understanding of nature and resulting ability to harness its power. Rulers kept these objects in a space known in the German-speaking provinces as the Kunstkammer, or cabinet of curiosities, which functioned simultaneously as a place of amusement, a retreat for scientific investigation, and a political showcase of magnificence. Some of the artworks in these collections, which were carefully calculated to demonstrate a family's divine right to rule, eventually became dynastic heirlooms of great importance.

The brilliancy and value of jewels is one of the surest means of adding something to the importance of our being; they proclaim us from afar.

—Jean André Rouquet, 1755

Long associated with heavenly bodies, magic powers, and healing properties, gemstones were integral to the collection space known as the Kunstkammer. Rulers displayed them as powerful marvels of the natural world, either in their uncut state or incorporated into the complex decorative program of a precious object. As new sources were discovered over the course of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, gemstones became a distinct field of scientific inquiry, and scholars experimented to establish the relative durability of different types.

Eighteenth-century innovations in gem-cutting techniques released their inner brilliance. Cut diamonds, sapphires, and jacinths became centerpieces of princely display. These gemstones were still associated with the heavens and with healing, but when precisely cut into sparkling jewels they also implied a sophisticated knowledge of proportions, geometry, and refraction.

Artisans incorporated intricately faceted gemstones into the highest emblems of honor, displayed in royal treasuries and adorning the powerful to evoke awe during public appearances. Jewelry sets studded with gemstones like those in this gallery served both as splendid markers of wealth and as symbols of the hidden potential within nature.

Franz Diespach (German), modified by Christian August Globig (German). Hat ornament with the "Dresden Green" from the Diamond Garniture (detail), 1769, older elements Vienna 1746. Almond-shaped celadon-green diamond of 160 grains (approx. 41 carats); two round, brilliant-cut diamonds, one of 241/2 grains (approx. 6.28 carats), the other of unknown weight; 411 mediumto small diamonds; silver; gold, 5 9/16 x 1 15/16 in. (14.1 x 5 cm). Grünes Gewölbe, Staatliche Kunstsammlungen Dresden

O telescope, instrument of much knowledge, more precious than any scepter! Is not he who holds thee in his hand made king and lord of the works of God!

—Johannes Kepler, 1611

Seventeenth-century advocates of the "new science" such as Johannes Kepler and Galileo Galilei believed that they could uncover the secrets of nature by analyzing the world through mathematics and its related disciplines, geometry and astronomy. Competency in these fields yielded powerful knowledge, and rulers increasingly supported the development of new equipment to aid in observation, induction, and experimentation.

From models of the solar system to tools for improving the accuracy of cannons, the courtly instruments in these galleries could help further a prince's reputation as a wise, judicious sovereign. Young princes learned to use them in preparation for the rigors of governance, some becoming respected astronomers in their own right. Ruling families employed instrument makers well into the eighteenth century, adding increasingly sophisticated mathematical, optical, and astronomical devices to their collections.

The growing popularity of scientific apparatus as symbols of might is signaled by their precious materials and sumptuous decoration. These captivating pieces served both as tools of princely self-representation and as devices for measuring—in hopes of subsequently manipulating—the world

The Kunstkammer often included not only mathematical instruments but also the most advanced devices of artisanal production, which "prince practitioners" used in workshops appended to their collections. Early modern science, which can be broadly described as the investigation of nature and the cosmos, covered a wide range of activities. As pursuits such as turning ivory, practicing alchemy, or working as a goldsmith became seen as legitimate ways of studying natural forces, the powerful funneled resources toward them, seeking to develop visionary products and processes.

These activities were also essential to courtly education and leisure. Princes competed to acquire the most cutting-edge tools and to earn renown for their abilities, strengthening their legitimacy as sovereigns. Technical knowledge was tied to political authority, morality, and wisdom. The honing of skill in a range of disciplines was likened to the self-mastery and practical wisdom deemed fundamental traits of a good ruler. Craft tools served as proof of these virtues, so princes displayed lavish examples in the Kunstkammer alongside showpieces produced with them by distinguished master artisans.

The weight that drives the clock of commonwealth should be the force of a lively intellect.

—Daniel Caspar von Lohenstein, 17th century

Clocks were perhaps the most marvelous technological achievements of the early modern period, and European rulers treasured them. As courts competed for technical supremacy, patrons encouraged innovations in their mechanical technology. As much display pieces and astronomical instruments as timekeepers, the most valued clocks expressed the advanced character of their interior mechanisms through splendidly decorated cases and complex dials.

Self-moving machines stood for more than technical progress. Practitioners of the "new science" embraced clockwork metaphors for society, the self, and the universe. They linked astronomical clocks to notions of a divinely ordered cosmos that was reflected in human hierarchies. Clocks also served as allegories of rulership from the Renaissance to the Enlightenment. A disciplined society ran with the regularity of a clock, and the devices had been associated with wisdom, temperance, and prudence—virtues necessary for the ruler—since the fifteenth century. Given these symbolic resonances, it is no wonder that princes commissioned elaborate clocks for their Kunstkammer collections.

These [human] functions follow from the mere arrangement of the machine's organs every bit as naturally as the movements of a clock or other automaton follow from the arrangement of its counterweights and wheels.

—René Descartes, 1633

Displays of status and technological achievement were not limited to the Kunstkammer. Noble dynasties commissioned some marvels primarily to amuse attendees at courtly banquets, festivals, tournaments, and weddings, where they were incorporated into the dining setting in order to kindle lively discussion. The most marvelous of these technologies were automata, mechanized figures based on the same self-moving gear systems that powered clocks. Princes collected automata avidly, and brought them out of the Kunstkammer to delight guests by setting them in motion across the table.

Seemingly driven by a divine hand yet wholly the product of their makers' skill, automata stimulated philosophical discussions on the human ability to create machines that mimic our movement or react intelligently to commands. Many theorists described God as the greatest of all clockmakers, who set the vast mechanism of the cosmos in motion. Debates circulated about how their use of clockwork to imitate life placed artisans on par with the divine. Automata contributed to the development of a mechanistic theory of human life popularized by thinkers such as René Descartes during the early Enlightenment.

If we choose to call the performer [The Chess Player] a pure machine we must be prepared to admit that it is, beyond all comparison, the most wonderful of the inventions of mankind.

—Edgar Allan Poe, 1836

The innovations displayed in the collections and on the tables of Renaissance and Baroque Europe evolved into life-size humanoid automata built at the end of the eighteenth century. As they became increasingly complex, these machines earned a new name: androids. Early androids surprised courtly audiences with their seemingly perfect simulations of human movement and thought. Considered the forerunners of the modern computer, the cutting-edge technologies that produced these mysterious effects would soon be harnessed in the Industrial Revolution, generating great shifts in the way we live and work.

The positive connotations associated with technological progress in the Renaissance endured through the centuries to inflect the present day. While scientific instruments and automata no longer carry the same prestige, their spiritual successors—the high-end cars, handheld artificial intelligence, and luxury electronics dreamed up by today's scientists, artisans, and engineers—command a level of respect that keeps alive a drive toward creativity and innovation.