On Money Among his other virtues, Albrecht Dürer was a meticulous book- keeper. His travel diaries are chock- a-block with tallies in now arcane currencies—“8 thaler” for wine, “5 white pfs” for a Lutheran tract, “20 stivers” for an elk’s foot—as well as payment in units still perfectly familiar: a St. Eustace to a servant; a Melencolia I to a secretary; an engraved Passion to a goldsmith. Dürer prints, then as now, were valued as masterpieces of art, not just markers of exchange, but Dürer understood that reproducibility brought fungibility with it. Though banknotes would not become common in Europe until centuries later, Dürer’s unchartered accountancy is a sneak preview of the coming codepen- dency of printing, art and money.