On November 12, 1833, in Saint Petersburg, at 9 Gagarinskaya Street, a boy named Alexander was born. His father was Luka Gedianov, a 60-year-old Georgian prince, and his mother was Avdotya Antonova, a 24-year-old housekeeper and the daughter of a soldier [1]. According to the laws of the time, an illegitimate child could not be officially recognised by his noble father. Instead, he was legally recorded as the son of Porfiry Borodin, a serf servant, and his wife Tatyana. Thus, the young Sasha (a diminutive of Alexander) inherited a surname and patronymic that were not truly his own, making him—legally—his father’s serf.
Despite his complicated origins, the boy grew up charming everyone with his wit and sensitivity. From an early age, he displayed a keen intellect, remarkable patience, and an extraordinary memory. During his childhood, Alexander Borodin was raised in his biological father’s house, though Avdotya Antonova lived in adjacent rooms. In public, however, he was required to call her ‘aunt’, while she affectionately referred to him as ‘my hundred-ruble kitten’ [3].
By 1839, Luka Gedianov’s health began to deteriorate seriously. Concerned about his beloved’s future well-being, he arranged a marriage of convenience for Avdotya Antonova with Hans Kleinecke, a military doctor, and gifted her a four-story mansion near Semenovsky Square [5]. The windows overlooked a military training ground, where young Alexander often heard marching bands rehearsing. He was so captivated by these martial melodies that he eagerly attempted to reproduce them by ear on the household piano. Recognising his talent, his family hired one of the military musicians as his teacher, marking the beginning of his musical education. Sasha soon learned to play a variety of instruments, including the flute, oboe, clarinet, and various folk pipes, later progressing to the cello [3].
Alexander Borodin received his early education in languages, mathematics, drawing, and music alongside his childhood friend Mikhail Shchiglyov [2]. The two spent a great deal of time together, engaging in various creative activities—from mixing watercolor paints and sculpting with wet paper to playing four-hand arrangements of Beethoven, Haydn, and Mendelssohn on the piano [1].
At the age of nine, young Alexander experienced his first love—a deep admiration for an older girl named Elena [3]. Overwhelmed by emotion, he composed his first piece of music, a polka titled Helen. By thirteen, he had already written a Flute and Piano Concerto, followed by a short string trio based on themes from Meyerbeer’s opera Robert le Diable.
Around the same time, Borodin developed a keen interest in chemistry. His home soon became filled with glass bottles, experimental substances, and the lingering scent of homemade fireworks. This fascination with science stayed with him throughout his life [6].
In 1856, Borodin graduated from the Imperial Medical-Surgical Academy and was assigned to the Second Military Land Hospital as a resident [3]. However, he quickly realised that a career as a practicing physician was not for him. He found himself fainting at the sight of severe wounds, and on one occasion, during a surgical procedure, accidentally broke an instrument inside a patient’s throat [3]. Fortunately, he managed to react in time, and no harm was done.
During his time at the hospital, Borodin met the young Modest Mussorgsky, who was then serving as a junior officer on duty and had only just begun his path as a professional musician [5]. Mussorgsky frequently performed at evening gatherings organised by the hospital’s chief physician, and through these events, the two young men bonded over their shared passion for music. This friendship would later play a crucial role in Borodin’s musical career and his involvement in the influential group of Russian composers known as The Mighty Handful (or The Five) [1].
In 1862, while visiting his friend, the physician Sergei Botkin, Alexander Borodin was introduced to the composer Mily Balakirev. Balakirev invited him to join his musical circle, which would soon become known as ‘The Mighty Handful’ [2]. The group—comprising Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, Modest Mussorgsky, and César Cui—regularly gathered at Balakirev’s home, where they shared their compositions, refined their works, and critiqued each other’s music [1]. Borodin quickly became an active member, inspired by the idea of composing his own symphonic work [1].
The St. Petersburg musical establishment, however, viewed Balakirev and his colleagues with arrogant irony, mocking their embrace of Russian folk traditions and melodies [6]. Their music was dismissively referred to as ‘coachmen’s music’ reflecting the prevailing elitist attitude toward folk influences in classical composition.
Borodin’s scientific background influenced even his compositional process. He had a habit of sketching his musical ideas in pencil, but these drafts were often fragile and easily lost [4]. To preserve his valuable manuscripts, he coated the sheets with egg whites or gelatin solution, a chemical technique that prevented the ink from fading. He would then hang the pages around his apartment to dry—a perfect example of how his knowledge of chemistry served his music [3].
By the late 1860s, members of The Mighty Handful were actively working on operatic compositions:
• Mussorgsky was composing Boris Godunov
• Rimsky-Korsakov was writing The Maid of Pskov
• Balakirev was developing The Firebird (an early, unrealised project unrelated to Stravinsky’s later ballet).
Borodin, inspired by music and art critic Vladimir Stasov, began work on his opera Prince Igor [4]. His approach was deeply scholarly—he did not merely compose the music but also studied historical chronicles and numerous primary sources, eventually writing the libretto himself. However, his academic career as a chemist and professor occupied most of his time, significantly delaying his progress [5].
Meanwhile, his first symphony was completed and premiered five years later under the baton of Mily Balakirev at the Russian Musical Society. The performance was met with prolonged ovations, and the work received high praise, including an enthusiastic review from the Hungarian composer Franz Liszt [3].
It is astonishing that it was a ‘scholarly scientist’, a professor of chemistry, rather than a tempestuous ‘bohemian artist’ who composed music that, in the words of composer and musicologist Boris Asafiev, ‘evokes a sense of strength, vitality, and light; it carries a mighty breath, grandeur, vastness, and openness; it embodies a harmonious and healthy appreciation of life, a joy in the very awareness of existence.’
Borodin’s friends often described him as indecisive, a trait he himself denied. Yet they would remind him that even his wife, Ekaterina had been the one to confess her love first. To Katya, this was nothing extraordinary—she understood that their feelings were mutual and instinctively knew that her husband would love only once in his lifetime.
By the time they met, Borodin was already an established physician, a respected chemist, and an aspiring composer. Although his scientific legacy might seem modest by today’s standards—comprising around 40 published works—he made several notable discoveries in chemistry [5]. He developed a method for synthesising brominated hydrocarbons(now known as the Borodin-Hunsdiecker reaction) and was among the first to obtain an organofluorine compound (benzoyl fluoride). He is also associated with the decomposition of urea, and he even designed a gasometric apparatusfor conducting this reaction in laboratory conditions [6].
In 1861, Borodin traveled abroad for scientific work. Upon arriving in Heidelberg, he stayed at a boarding house, where he met pianist Katya Protopopova, who was there for asthma treatment. One evening, she was persuaded to play for the guests. As she began a Chopin piece, she noticed a man leaning on the piano, completely mesmerised by the music. That man was Borodin.
The two quickly became friends, spending a wonderful summer together. However, as autumn approached, Katya’s health worsened, and she had to leave for Italy. By then, Borodin was no longer just a friend—he accompanied her as her fiancé [3].
Their wedding was postponed for two years due to financial difficulties. They settled in St. Petersburg, though their life remained far from prosperous. Yekaterina’s lung condition often forced her to leave the city, while Borodin worked relentlessly, juggling multiple jobs—writing articles, giving lessons, and delivering lectures [5]. He could compose only when ill and confined to bed, which is why his opera Prince Igor took 18 years to complete. Even then, he never finished it—after his death, the work was completed by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov and Alexander Glazunov [6].
On February 15, 1887, during the final day of Maslenitsa (Russian Carnival Week), the Borodins hosted a ball at their home. As always, there was music, laughter, and dancing, with Borodin at the center of the festivities. Suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he collapsed to the floor. The doctor arrived too late—Borodin had died of heart failure. In her grief, Yekaterina found comfort in their two adopted daughters and their grandson, whom Borodin affectionately called ‘little Borya’ [3].
In 1909, over two decades after his passing, Borodin’s music achieved international acclaim when the ballet fragment Polovtsian Dances caused a sensation in Paris. The work was featured in Sergei Diaghilev’s Russian Seasons, staged by Mikhail Fokine with scenic designs by Nikolai Roerich [5].
Borodin’s first biographer, Vladimir Stasov, eloquently captured the essence of his artistic genius:
The defining qualities of his talent are its titanic strength and breadth, its colossal sweep, its energy and impulsiveness—combined with an astonishing passion, tenderness, and beauty [4].
Stasov further noted:
In terms of quantity, Borodin composed far less than his peers, yet nearly all of his works bear the mark of complete mastery and profound perfection. Among them, there are no weak ones [4].
Borodin’s legacy, though shaped by both science and music, endures most vividly in the power and beauty of his compositions, securing his place as one of Russia’s most unique and fascinating composers.
[1] Borodin, Alexander Porfyrievich. 1911. In H. Chisholm (Ed.), Encyclopædia Britannica: A Dictionary of Arts, Sciences, Literature and General Information (Vol. 4). New York City, Cambridge: University Press.
[2] ‘Aleksandr Borodin | Russian Composer, Chemist & Romantic Nationalist’. Britannica. Accessed January 24, 2024. www.britannica.com.
[3] Borodin, Aleksandr. 1889. Aleksandr Porfir’yevich Borodin: His Life, Correspondence, and Musical Articles, 1834-1887. St. Petersburg: A.S. Suvorin.
[4] Stasov, Vladimir. 1952. Selected Works in Three Volumes: Painting, Sculpture, Music. Volume Three. Moscow: Iskusstvo.
[5] Bulychyova, Anna. 2017. Borodin. Moscow: Molodaya Gvardiya.
[6] Dianin, Sergei. 1955. Borodin: Biography, Materials, and Documents. Edited by Igor Belza and V. A. Kiselev. Moscow: Muzgiz.
