Ferdinand Hodler · 5 min read
The little boy at the centre of a circle of expectation
In The Chosen One, Hodler gives a child a singular place amid figures arranged around him. The 1893–1894 work lets us look at how a symbolic title becomes an organisation of bodies.
Published on October 3, 2026
At the centre of The Chosen One, a child gives the gaze a point of support very different from the one an adult hero would offer. Around him, the figures compose a space of attention. We can recognise bodies, gestures and an organisation, but we are not placed before a ceremony whose rules would all be immediately known. Ferdinand Hodler invites us to measure a situation: a young being occupies a central place, while the surrounding presences give that place a scope the title makes more explicit without exhausting it.
The painting is dated 1893–1894 in the dossier from the Museo d’arte della Svizzera italiana. It is held at the Bern museum. The dossier also recalls the composition principle based on symmetry that Hodler used at the time. These reference points locate the object, but do not excuse us from looking at it. A title such as The Chosen One can arouse many religious or symbolic expectations. The painting must give them a support: the scale of bodies, gestures, relationships and space left between the different presences.
The difference in age is a first means of construction. The centre does not necessarily dominate through size; it attracts through position and the relationship other figures establish with it. The visitor can therefore feel a force without confusing it with physical power. This changes our way of reading the group. Instead of seeking the most imposing figure, we follow the orientations leading towards the smallest. Centrality is created through the others’ gaze as much as through the character’s own outline.
Gestures become particularly important in this space. A posture can open a passage, an inclination bring attention back to the centre, a repetition give continuity to the group. Movement does not need to be an abrupt action to act. Hodler can produce a feeling of expectation with bodies that remain largely motionless. The visitor moves mentally from one to another, seeks a relationship and discovers that the painting organises this route. The event lies in the arrangement, not merely in a spectacular gesture whose instant has been frozen.
The title designates a choosing, but the work does not provide the rules of a choice. Who chooses, under what authority and for what future? Visitors can formulate these questions without turning the answers they imagine into biographical facts. The painting retains an openness that forms part of its symbolic strength. It gives the centre a presence and the group a shared direction. This economy leaves a large place for visible relationships rather than a story whose characters we would already have to know to experience the scene’s movement.
An attentive reading must also resist the temptation to make the child an entirely abstract idea. The body retains a scale, an apparent fragility and a relationship with the ground. The symbolic ambition does not suppress these properties. It relies on them to make the scene intimate. The image may evoke promise or growth, but these associations arise from a represented being, not a simple inscription. We see a small presence surrounded by larger ones, and this relationship remains palpable even when we do not know the history of Symbolism.
The museum gives this painting an environment different from its initial context. Other works, labels and documents allow us to relate it to Hodler’s explorations, but also to distinguish his choices. It is unnecessary to turn The Chosen One into the definitive answer to all his work. A work possesses its own organisation, which a career can illuminate without dissolving it. The visitor can compare the child’s centrality to a collective walk or seated figures, then return to the specific relationships sustaining the circle of attention here.
At the end of the encounter, the child seems surrounded by a space larger than his body. The neighbouring presences give him that breadth, while the title continues to arouse a question rather than impose a conclusion. Hodler has made us observe a centre constructed through relationships. The scene remains open, but it is not undecided: its organisation is strong enough to sustain successive gazes. The Chosen One can then be received as a story of place and attention, in which painting shows how a group makes someone visible who, through size alone, might have seemed secondary.


