On Lake Louise
Yuhki Kuramoto mostly writes for the piano, though some of his pieces are available in orchestral arrangements. As a student, Kuramoto studied Rachmaninoff, who was an influential Russion classical composer of the Romantic period. Rachmaninoff’s influence is clearly shown in the direction of Kuramoto’s music, as Rachmaninoff often featured the piano in his compositions, known for his particular ability to write melodies for the instrument. Essentially, Kuramoto is a half piano performer and half classical and popular composer who never attended a music conservatory and reached his current status through self-study. In fact, he obtained a masters degree in Applied Physics at the prestigious Tokyo Institute of Technology—for Yuhki Kuramoto, music was a choice. His first CD was published at the age of 35, and currently has 18 CDs out. He attained popularity and fame in Asia both as a performer and composer, becoming famous for his accessible pieces such as those titled “Romance,” “Meditation,” and yes, “Lake Louise.” All three have especially beautiful melodies, and are somewhat of a cross-hybrid between classical and popular music that has captured the hearts of many a listener throughout his years.
The visual created by this piece is absolutely fascinating. Lake Louise is an actual lake in Alberta, Canada, known for its emerald hue (which comes from rock flour carried into the lake by runoff from nearby glaciers). The melodic line has large jumps in it, but succeeds like no other in helping the listener envision a smooth surface of water, as well as a soaring feeling whenever the highest “voice” makes one of those large leaps (see section B, measure 14).
The piece is mostly written in D major, though it makes visits to the dominant key, as well as the relative minor of the dominant key.
The piece is written in ternary form, A B A, with each section being constructed in a parallel manner (though to call them periods may technically be incorrect considering neither of the two cadences in each part manages to be more or less conclusive than the other). A is broken into a and a’, B into b and b’, then A returns.
Phrase a is 8 bars long, and ends with an imperfect authentic cadence in DM. At first, the cadence there seemed to me like a PAC in AM (the dominant key), but the V/V resolves to a V7, which tonicizes D instead of the expected A.
We get the IAC in DM in the a’ phrase in the middle of the 9th measure, which is why I suspect Mr. Kuramoto included an additional (10th) measure of just melodic lead-in to B so that he could keep an even measure count.
Section B doesn’t exactly ground itself in only one tonality- it wanders in between f# minor (the relative minor of the dominant), AM (the dominant), and DM (home). We see constant progressions of V7/iii – iii in section B, which gives that impression of getting one’s feet wet in f# minor, but it ends with a progression of V7/V – V7 – I, much like what the listeners hear at the end of phrase a. Again, here, we expect to end in the dominant key, but are led back to home—D major. The final I chord of this IAC (or the last chord of the B section) is also the first chord of the A section, effectively creating an elision from B back to A.
The last section A is almost identical to the first, but phrase a’ doesn’t have those extra two measures, because the song is wrapped up, ultimately, in the coda. Phrase a’ ends in a deceptive cadence in DM from V to vi, thwarting the listeners’ desires to finally have a PAC in the home key, D major. But, as it turns out, this doesn’t even happen in the coda, in the end:
At the end of the piece, Kuramoto chooses to end on a plagal cadence with a minor iv chord, borrowed from the parallel minor (d minor) of the home key. This is an interesting choice, even though because the iv-I progression is preceded by a V7 chord, the listener still hears motion from dominant to tonic. I also noticed that the left hand basically reiterates what it played in the introduction in the very last two or three bars of the coda, giving the listener a full sense of return to home.
Well, how do these sections relate to each other?
Well, the anacrusis and first measure of the A section make a sort of motive that is tonally transposed for use in the B section (such as in measures 1, 3, 5, 9, 11, and 13 of section B, which is quite a hefty part of the middle part of the piece). So essentially, B can be labeled as “similar” to section A, giving a same-similar-same form to the piece. The piece overall is just very coherent and together while still being free, because old material is reiterated and transformed so many times throughout. This is even more underlined in Kuramoto’s choice to have the left- hand introduction make a literal repetition comeback in the coda, truly giving a sense of returning to where the listeners started, and with that strange, ear-catching B flat that points to the harmony as minor iv chord too.
The use of the double dotted quarter note in the A section was interesting. It gave the melody a chance to be off the beat sometimes in a piece that was very largely 8th-note-arpeggiating-left-hand-accompaniment- driven. However, in the B section, where the melodic motive returns, the notes are “dotted quarter note-eighth note-half note tied to quarter note,” a bit more of a regular choice than in the original motive. Perhaps this choice was made because the tonal center of the B section itself is a bit ambiguous and up in the air, and needed something to ground it.
What I really loved about the piece upon first listen was the way B sounds like 3 separate melodic parts when really it’s just the right hand “singing two voices,” if you will. The three “parts” weave in and out of each other, the very highest voice with the main melody and the left hand providing more harmonic support. The “middle voice” here often holds 8th-note pedal notes that follow the introduction of every melody note (listen to measure 6, section B).
When I listen to this piece, I liken the melodic line to an eagle flying over Lake Louise. As you can see on the handout, in section A, you start with a sense of soaring over the lake, then dipping closer to the water, then nearing the water, having your wings skim the surface, and making a steady descent but never quite landing, just starting another ascent. Upon inspection of the piece as a whole, the listener comes to the realization that Kuramoto never quite gives his audience that perfect authentic cadence in the home key of D major, which is a choice that serves him well- he gets to give a sense of satisfying return at the end of the piece without having to have his bird rest fully anywhere, as if it will be flying above Lake Louise forever and ever, looping and looping every single time someone takes the time to lend an ear and listen.
The visual created by this piece is absolutely fascinating. Lake Louise is an actual lake in Alberta, Canada, known for its emerald hue (which comes from rock flour carried into the lake by runoff from nearby glaciers). The melodic line has large jumps in it, but succeeds like no other in helping the listener envision a smooth surface of water, as well as a soaring feeling whenever the highest “voice” makes one of those large leaps (see section B, measure 14).
The piece is mostly written in D major, though it makes visits to the dominant key, as well as the relative minor of the dominant key.
The piece is written in ternary form, A B A, with each section being constructed in a parallel manner (though to call them periods may technically be incorrect considering neither of the two cadences in each part manages to be more or less conclusive than the other). A is broken into a and a’, B into b and b’, then A returns.
Phrase a is 8 bars long, and ends with an imperfect authentic cadence in DM. At first, the cadence there seemed to me like a PAC in AM (the dominant key), but the V/V resolves to a V7, which tonicizes D instead of the expected A.
We get the IAC in DM in the a’ phrase in the middle of the 9th measure, which is why I suspect Mr. Kuramoto included an additional (10th) measure of just melodic lead-in to B so that he could keep an even measure count.
Section B doesn’t exactly ground itself in only one tonality- it wanders in between f# minor (the relative minor of the dominant), AM (the dominant), and DM (home). We see constant progressions of V7/iii – iii in section B, which gives that impression of getting one’s feet wet in f# minor, but it ends with a progression of V7/V – V7 – I, much like what the listeners hear at the end of phrase a. Again, here, we expect to end in the dominant key, but are led back to home—D major. The final I chord of this IAC (or the last chord of the B section) is also the first chord of the A section, effectively creating an elision from B back to A.
The last section A is almost identical to the first, but phrase a’ doesn’t have those extra two measures, because the song is wrapped up, ultimately, in the coda. Phrase a’ ends in a deceptive cadence in DM from V to vi, thwarting the listeners’ desires to finally have a PAC in the home key, D major. But, as it turns out, this doesn’t even happen in the coda, in the end:
At the end of the piece, Kuramoto chooses to end on a plagal cadence with a minor iv chord, borrowed from the parallel minor (d minor) of the home key. This is an interesting choice, even though because the iv-I progression is preceded by a V7 chord, the listener still hears motion from dominant to tonic. I also noticed that the left hand basically reiterates what it played in the introduction in the very last two or three bars of the coda, giving the listener a full sense of return to home.
Well, how do these sections relate to each other?
Well, the anacrusis and first measure of the A section make a sort of motive that is tonally transposed for use in the B section (such as in measures 1, 3, 5, 9, 11, and 13 of section B, which is quite a hefty part of the middle part of the piece). So essentially, B can be labeled as “similar” to section A, giving a same-similar-same form to the piece. The piece overall is just very coherent and together while still being free, because old material is reiterated and transformed so many times throughout. This is even more underlined in Kuramoto’s choice to have the left- hand introduction make a literal repetition comeback in the coda, truly giving a sense of returning to where the listeners started, and with that strange, ear-catching B flat that points to the harmony as minor iv chord too.
The use of the double dotted quarter note in the A section was interesting. It gave the melody a chance to be off the beat sometimes in a piece that was very largely 8th-note-arpeggiating-left-hand-accompaniment- driven. However, in the B section, where the melodic motive returns, the notes are “dotted quarter note-eighth note-half note tied to quarter note,” a bit more of a regular choice than in the original motive. Perhaps this choice was made because the tonal center of the B section itself is a bit ambiguous and up in the air, and needed something to ground it.
What I really loved about the piece upon first listen was the way B sounds like 3 separate melodic parts when really it’s just the right hand “singing two voices,” if you will. The three “parts” weave in and out of each other, the very highest voice with the main melody and the left hand providing more harmonic support. The “middle voice” here often holds 8th-note pedal notes that follow the introduction of every melody note (listen to measure 6, section B).
When I listen to this piece, I liken the melodic line to an eagle flying over Lake Louise. As you can see on the handout, in section A, you start with a sense of soaring over the lake, then dipping closer to the water, then nearing the water, having your wings skim the surface, and making a steady descent but never quite landing, just starting another ascent. Upon inspection of the piece as a whole, the listener comes to the realization that Kuramoto never quite gives his audience that perfect authentic cadence in the home key of D major, which is a choice that serves him well- he gets to give a sense of satisfying return at the end of the piece without having to have his bird rest fully anywhere, as if it will be flying above Lake Louise forever and ever, looping and looping every single time someone takes the time to lend an ear and listen.