Score here (p.2).
Read it and weep. 🙂
Update (8/11): A couple of minor errata in the analysis: in m.6, the G in the bottom staff should be parenthesized; likewise for the half-note G-B dyad in m.7. About the parenthesized notes in general, I should add that their purpose is to clarify the function (or “meaning”) of the surrounding notes in the same line; they are not meant to be understood literally as “hallucinated” pitches sounding at the same time as the other notes. (Of course, since all the notes in the analysis are conceptual anyway, the distinction may not be all that important — especially in view of the fact that every parenthesized note is doubled, up to pitch-class, by a “real” conceptual note, which is one of the things that makes this piece so easy to understand.)
For those who are wondering how this analysis fits in with other recent posts (not that it necessarily has to, of course!), the point is the following: the traditional classification of op.19 no 2 (and many other 20th century works) as “atonal” depends upon a bad theory of “tonality”; that, indeed, was the main point of my Chomsky post. After all, how was it originally decided that this piece wasn’t “tonal”? Presumably, someone looked at the score, saw the final sonority, or the one in m.6, and said “What chord is that?” After looking around further, they proclaimed, “I don’t see a coherent harmonic progression anywhere in here.” Perhaps they even asked, in desperation, “Where’s the V-I cadence?”
If, however, we take the Westergaardian view as our point of departure, such questions never get asked. Our theoretical vocabulary does not refer to chords and progressions, but rather to lines and elaborations. Consequently, the fact that a particular coincidence of notes is “unusual” is never an issue, so long as the notes are individually comprehensible as elements of lines, any more than the fact that 3574.37562 is an “unusual” number poses problems for arithmetic. (I suspect most musicians intuitively realize that this should be the case, but attribute their analytical difficulties to the inadequacy of music theory in general, rather than to the true culprit, which is the particular music theory they have been taught.)
The above Schoenberg analysis is, I hope, a dramatic illustration of the power of this type of theoretical framework — dramatic because it shows how easy it is to hear a so-called “atonal” composition as “tonal” once we start thinking about “tonal” music in the right way. Contributing to the drama is the fact that Westergaard himself never intended his “tonal theory” to apply to the middle-period music of the Second Viennese School, but yet it does apply, simply because it was the right way to approach music in the first place.