Written by Nurel Javissyarqi
Translated by Agus B. Harianto
Alexander Borodin was born November 12, 1833, in Saint Petersburg. He is illegitimate child of a nobleman Georgia, Luka Gedevanishvili. And his mother, Evdokia Konstantinovna Antonova, came from Russia.
Since he was a child, he got the best education including piano lessons. He received a doctorate in medical department at the Academy Medico, and then he wanted more for his career in chemistry.
He took lessons about composition from Mily Balakirev 1862, and then he married the pianist Ekaterina Protopopova. Borodin, known as one of the composers of “The Five,” which is dedicated to produce specific style of Russian music. And he passed away suddenly on February 27, 1887, in the age of 53 years. (summary from wikipedia)
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Oscillation of his music could penetrate deeply into boundary of sleep tight to permeate the content of dream sleep. When he presents the plain “In the Steppes of Central Asia.”
He unified pieces of old books, which were scattered in the street of wanderer. Aridity of searching is understood, warmed up the peak of union, the triumph of sound open the heart of listener;
melancholy fragments, the silence stretches, untold thirst, endless longing, melancholic feelings, infiltrate the marrow of the reader’s presence.
Apparently he was blessed by ancestral spirits, since the bone fragments after the war. Or, at the ferocity of season attacked the peeling skins, bones transformed to be dust. All were raised with long screams, endless wistful echo pulled out roots of sense since the peak of secret.
Different from his friend, composer Moussorgsky that was a reckless, crazy, chaos, precisely he was a revolutionary with his style is purely Russian. Borodin is more like war drafter brought trinkets of thought; musing of guerilla carries the music of having strategy. Tactics of dust blown by the wind, through the flexibility of breath inspires longing, through gentle whispers, the breath of wanderer searching trail.
When the voice rising up and straightly achieving victory, horse starfish of hunting for longing infiltrated the true nature of Mongolia. Liven the subconscious of its listeners;
actuated furs through blowing the skin of feeling, with great care driven the past era, memories of the past grabbed the meaning set out on the track of cloud overshadowed the researchers.
Then the hand lifted up high. Through the drawing of long knife, sword flashes reflected the light of sky wishes to drop its rain. Generosity for the seriousness and prosperity to anyone has strong intention to the fields of possibilities, dream plain.
Asia seemed bright sky to present the face of fertility goddess, the blue stretches, green glazes, and white as clear as honesty of naked.
Smooth nuance of soft panorama, a matter of time hypnotized but keeps suspicion, vigilance sharpened, oiled by old value. As ancient as strong mind to natural laws which, in turn, the essence of confidence embedded onto the human hearts.
Reassuring the faith that understands causality of God’s mercy, as the live of plants and animals are already decided. And the man exploring his terrain to research questions, for the treasure of the generations thereafter.
That is the book of Borodin, when he presented the Mongolia. Galloping horse of soldiers marching, the tents of resting were still on the scope of the event of fighting. The meeting of the troop leaders on the table of map implicitly signed the power. Unhampered view was considering more to the breath in the middle of barren plains, before deciding the destiny of future.
Echo of “In the Steppes of Central Asia,” proved his sense is more sensitive to Asian’s styles; whispering of leaf, stem bending looming, the color of sun, the breathing of universe shined by the lines of horizon, reached by a willing of the heart to give a signal, which outstretched of the space.
Cavities breathes into the boundary of imagination, proven it’s worthy of publication, great confidence, permanence to infiltrate the space of heart. The human just stay to be grateful, drawing the days fully grace, on lightening of planning finalized the purpose.
So was the nature of Asia presents its natural tendency, given to anyone really listens. Interprets the long thread of mind, without forgetting wrapped by wellspring of life, tears of experience, anxiety of sadness, sobbing sucks all the attention.
Music is such as painting, poetry, dancing; derived from the deepest will that concentrates on the balance. The nature gives clicking sound waves, the man followed its reaching, and the nature shows scarves of dusk and dawn, all creatures present bow down to pray to the Creator.
The professor of organic chemistry in high school, a chief in the chemical laboratory at Petrogad, performs the paintings of nature, until I published the school of understanding;
The music; noble knowledge, although other scientific are complementary, in fact the music is in the whole body; whether painting, poetry, sculpture, and stage plays, there is soul of music.
Pay attentions to his music, endowed endless testimony, the glowing of soul’s seducing is for inspiration. The desire of soul hopes to be traced to the ultimate heart: the essence of life, the beauty of the great charm of values.
As philosophy comes over a distance of social disorder, entered the cave of silence before being returned to the public. Shade of mind, the beauty of choice, the beauty of regulation in front of the mirror of the self are distributed to the thinkers.
It came through the shocks of various acknowledgements and rejections, scorn and incitement, but all are perished to the shade, the comfort of heart as such the baby born. Or at the deepest consciousness, the human miss together achievement, sincere smile presents simplicity.
Such as the early consideration, there was no smallest desire to ravage order, but with fine blowing, all will follow. Such as goal take to consciousness, levels are determined through mature reasoning, majored the relationship.
The nature gives teaching to every settler, wanderer with characters he played. Here is the reality of magic, the power of God as close as the music inside the self.
11/4/2011
http://sastra-indonesia.com/2011/04/alexander-porfiryevich-borodin-1833-%E2%80%93-1887/