Hope 1306

Editor: Right now, we're looking at Giotto's "Hope," painted as a fresco around 1306. It’s part of the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua. I find her posture so compelling – reaching upwards but also sort of leaning back, almost resisting. What do you make of this figure? Curator: It's funny you say "resisting," because hope *can* feel that way sometimes, doesn't it? Giotto’s “Hope” isn't the sugary sweet optimism we might expect. See how solid she is, how firmly her feet are planted – even as she reaches for that celestial crown. And consider where it lives, in the Arena Chapel, amidst other virtues and vices. She's not floating in a vacuum. She's a *choice*. Almost like choosing to grab that ring. What is she hoping for, do you think? Editor: Salvation, maybe? Or at least divine grace. I suppose her struggle suggests that hope isn't passive. Curator: Precisely! Giotto’s genius lies in humanizing these abstract concepts. That slight tension in her body speaks volumes. And look at her gaze – fixed, determined. Not dreamy, but *focused*. She's putting in the work! It's not a fluffy, fairy-tale hope, but a gritty, determined climb towards something better, wouldn’t you agree? Editor: Definitely. I had only thought of hope as passive and I see now there's also an active component to the idea of hope. Curator: Indeed, she shows the necessity of hope. In its own way this artwork offers the sense of a beginning: Giotto leading us gently into a brighter world. Editor: Thank you for sharing your insight. I am already looking at her differently!