Pierrot Lunaire Analysis
I chose Schoenberg for my final paper because I wanted to explore music that challenges the traditional boundaries of tonality and form. I wanted to learn about his music and about his twelve-tone system. I wanted to understand his music because, honestly, I don’t like it and I do not understand it. Yes, he is a well-respected composer, artist, and philosopher. I wanted to try to understand his work and maybe gain some appreciation for it.
Part of me relates to him and to other composers we have studied in our Music History Class with Prof. Michele Cabrini at Hunter College, because I am also a composer and an immigrant, and all my life I have felt alone. Alone in my art, alone in music, alone in my thoughts and dreams maybe a little bit like Pierrot who is a naive artist and child-like. I feel like I have never truly found my home, and I am still searching. That’s why a part of me appreciates Schoenberg’s struggle to create something new in music, to find his own artistic “home,” and to make his mark, whether it is through music, paintings, and his books. I also enjoy learning about different composers, musicians, and their life stories. But I am traditional in the sense that I love “beautiful” and harmonious tonal music, so I am biased in that sense and perhaps my analysis will not be 100% objective, but I will try.
This paper is my attempt to understand Schoenberg and his music. And I will analyze Pierrot Lunaire by Arnold Schoenberg. Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951) was an Austrian-American composer born in Vienna to a Jewish family of modest means. Largely self-taught in his youth, he later studied briefly with Alexander von Zemlinsky. Schoenberg’s early works, such as Verklärte Nacht, emerged from the rich harmonic language of late Romanticism, but by the early 1900s he abandoned traditional tonality and became a leading pioneer of atonality. In the 1920s he developed the twelve-tone method, a systematic approach to organizing all twelve pitches of the chromatic scale. Forced to flee Europe during the rise of Nazism, Schoenberg emigrated to the United States, where he taught at UCLA and continued composing. Pierrot Lunaire is a collection of twenty-one short poems by Albert Giraud (1860–1929), originally written in French. They were translated into German by Otto Erich Hartleben (1864–1905), and there are several different English translations as well. It is difficult to determine which translation is “most accurate,” as translating poetry always involves navigating nuances, subtleties, and the unique musicality of each language.
Schoenberg divided the poems into three groups of seven, creating three parts within Pierrot Lunaire, each containing seven poems. Schoenberg often attached symbolic meanings to numbers. He famously feared the number thirteen, and, ironically, he was born and died on the thirteenth day of the month. Whether this is a coincidence or an example of meaningful numerology is open to interpretation.
Pierrot is a character from European (Italian) theatrical tradition, he is a naïve, melancholy figure in love with Columbine. He is penniless, impractical, romantic, and driven by ideals such as love, art, and music. In many ways, Pierrot represents the archetype of the struggling artist, perhaps Schoenberg saw himself as Pierrot. It is also worth noting that Schoenberg experienced his own tragic love triangle, reminiscent of the dynamic between Pierrot, Columbine, and Harlequin. The affair between his wife and the young painter Richard Gerstl ended with Gerstl’s suicide after she returned to Schoenberg.
One of the aspects I appreciate most about this work is its practicality: it allows composers to create a dramatic, expressive piece without the need for a large orchestral budget, multiple actors, dancers, choreographers, elaborate sets, or the grand staging typical of, for example, Verdi’s operas. A basic performance of Arnold Schoenberg’s Pierrot Lunaire requires a soprano performing in Sprechstimme (speech-singing) and a five-player chamber ensemble, often called a Pierrot ensemble, consisting of piano; flute (doubling piccolo); clarinet (doubling bass clarinet); violin (doubling viola); and cello, plus a conductor. This creates a total of seven performers presenting twenty-one short, atonal, expressionistic songs built around rich symbolic numerology. The work is divided into three cycles of seven songs, each exploring different aspects of the character Pierrot, his obsessions, nightmares, grotesque humor, religious imagery, and moments of fragile nostalgia. The music is atonal but highly expressive, full of sharp contrasts, intricate counterpoint, and vivid instrumental colors. Schoenberg uses numerology, symbolism, and extreme timbral imagination to paint each poem with psychological depth.
Pierrot Lunaire is not opera, not song cycle, and not theater in the traditional sense, it lives in a unique space between music, drama, and poetry. Its intimate scale, experimental vocal technique, and chamber instrumentation allow for dramatic storytelling without the resources of grand opera. Part 1”Pierrot’s Dreams” consists of 7 songs (little molodramas) starting with a song/poem Mondestrunken (Moondrunk). The poems are unrhymed, but each follows the same structural frame, thirteen lines divided into two quatrains and a concluding five-line stanza. The first two lines repeat in every poem, and Schoenberg highlights these repeated lines through specific instrumental coloring. There is no tonal center; the composer deliberately removes anything that might suggest a traditional tonic. Instead, he relies on small motives (short 3 note melodies) that recur throughout the cycle to create coherence.
Each instrument and voice enters with isolated gestures musical 3 note motives. I hear fragmented motives, Sprechstimme, sliding pitches, unstable rhythm. The first song describes Pierrot drinking moon wine with his eyes. I see a poet in the moonlight, the texture of the ensemble is very thin at first and the atmosphere is a little spooky, dark, and sad.
Part 2, “Nightmares and Crime,” includes Movements 8–14 and focuses on darkness, violence, and murder fantasies. It opens with the song Nacht (“Night”). The poem says that “giant black moths kill the sun’s splendor.” In Nacht, Schoenberg adapts the Baroque passacaglia principle by anchoring the movement to a persistent three-note ostinato. The bass line is presented by the piano, and it continues throughout the piece. It gives the movement structural and linear coherence. There is a counterpoint, because every instrument has its own line, motive, or musical idea. These lines overlap but do not necessarily form traditional harmony. The piano produces a very low, dark sonority by writing in the lowest part of the keyboard, with many ledger lines. The passacaglia motive is E,G,E flat, with a descending chromatic “tail.” The cello and clarinet imitate this passacaglia line, creating a canon form texture. This is a very famous movement. As Samuel Andreyev mentions in his description, it uses both canon and passacaglia techniques as its foundation. The piano, bass clarinet, and cello together create a “black, heavy” sound. The audience can feel that the night falls and there is no escape. Especially when composer introduces tremolo in the cello, he is introducing more noise, and more angst. There is a continual transposition of a motive E, G, E flat, and different variations of this motive. Schoenberg certainly succeeded in creating fear, darkness, angst, and inevitability.
In Part 3, “Redemption, Identity, and Irony” (Movements 15–21), Pierrot attempts to return home, filled with nostalgia and a sense of bitter humor. In the movement Der Mondfleck (“The Moonspot”), Pierrot happily walks along when he notices a bright spot on his coat. Believing it to be a stain, he frantically tries to rub it away. The irony is that the mark is nothing more than a reflection of moonlight, it is not a stain. It is simply moonlight shining on Pierrot, and it cannot be wiped off. The clarinet reflects Pierrot walking, perhaps even dancing. Its playful motive and rhythm suggest a sense of carefree joy, happiness for no reason, as Pierrot is temporarily free of his worries. However, the violin introduces repeated sixteenth notes, the same note recurring nervously, sometimes shifting to thirty-second notes. It almost seems as though the violin is signaling a new worry approaching Pierrot. The “stain” on his coat becomes a persistent concern, mirrored by the violin’s unrelenting repetition. Pierrot’s annoyance and preoccupation prevent him from fully enjoying the moment. He scrubs at a stain that cannot be removed.
Perhaps the underlying idea is that nothing in life is perfect and there is always a crack in everything. It is like wearing a beautiful white shirt on a sunny day, when everything should finally work out, yet a small black cloud always follows you. Your unwanted shadow always follows you and you can’t run away from your shadow.
In Heimfahrt(Journey Home)Schoenberg evokes Pierrot’s return home through a flowing Barcarole rhythm, continuous instrumental lines. The flute creates a sense of gentle motion. Pierrot is returning home with a moon illuminating his way home. His boat is gently rocking, there is a sense of peace. This piece has a more continuous and flowing texture.
Schoenberg uses Barcarole rhythms (6/8 or 12/8 patterns) Although atonal, the piece gives a sense of forward motion and continuity, contrasting with the sharp, pointillistic gestures of earlier movements. Repeating motifs are less fragmented, giving a feeling of stability and continuity. The movement foreshadows the final reflective mood of O alter Duft (Movement 21).
In O alter Duft (“O Old Perfume”)Schoenberg concludes the cycle with a reflective, nostalgic soundscape, using gentle instrumental lines and soft Sprechstimme to convey Pierrot’s emotional return home and to provide a sense of closure after the turbulent events of the previous movements. The song begins with piano and voice, as Pierrot sings very gently about the bliss and joy of his home, the familiar scents (old perfume) of his homeland, and the comfort of everything he left behind. He has traveled far from his home, only to return home and to realize that this is where true fleeting happiness lies. It is one of the softest and most calming songs in Pierrot Lunaire. The instrumentation again becomes very thin, creating an intimate and peaceful atmosphere. The music of Pierrot Lunaire reminds me of needles poking me everywhere, randomly. Each instrument has its own linear path and they interact with each other, kind of like counterpoint and polyphony, but there’s no resolution or traditional harmony. It creates a beautiful chaos, a beautiful darksome, frightening atmosphere, a sense of confusion, fleeing life, a sense of doom. All “motives” are very linear, all fragmented and broken, creating a texture of a very uncomfortable cloth, one that cannot offer any comfort. It is difficult to follow any melody in a conventional style. The music is truly atonal. All the motives are completely independent, but together they combine into a sense of chaos, disintegration, and sensual cacophony. I imagine our hero will never find any comfort or peace, or if he does, it is only for a moment, because all this music reminds me of our daily struggles, pain, discomfort, and the sense of never belonging anywhere. It is like a boat lost at sea that tries to find a shore to rest and never does. The little 2 note and 3 note “motives” or “ideas” are never resolved, they are kind of hanging in “pain.” The texture of the pieces is that of scattered thoughts that don’t make any sense at times, but somehow they do create a story. At the end we do get a story of Pierrot’s journey, his worries, his fears, and his life. I suspect he will never be happy anywhere fully because he is always longing and searching for something that maybe does not exist. It is a true philosophical search for the meaning of life that we all have to face at some point. Vexation of the spirit.
Schoenberg’s music and his self portraits and photographs often look a little “prickly” or “dark,” and they reminded me of my father, who is also a composer but was not a good father to me. He was absent, cruel, and dismissive in our rare interactions. Because of this, it was a surprise to hear in an interview with one of Schoenberg’s daughters on Samuel Andreyev’s podcast (Andreyev is a composer and professor) that Schoenberg was actually a very kind and playful father. She even said he was probably the best father in the world, better than most people had. So maybe Schoenberg was not as grim after all. His paintings that are not self-portraits have a very different feel and style. They are not as dark; the colors are more vibrant, and you can see a different side of him. I am not sure why his self-portraits have been the primary artistic representations used in books, online articles, and other media. His portrait of Alban Berg, his student, and his portraits of his second wife, Gertrud Bertha Schoenberg, are much more lively. His other paintings are also more detailed and expressive, with vibrant yellow-orange, light brown, and cheerful colors. These works are the complete opposite of his self-portraits. Right away, I can see that he was a multi-talented personality. He is a musician, artist, and a philosopher.
I have read about Schoenberg’s twelve-tone music and tried to understand it, and I have listened to his compositions, but at this point in my life, I still cannot fully grasp them. Sometimes music takes time to grow on you; sometimes we don’t understand it right away. I feel that the twelve-tone system emerged from a great deal of thought and experimentation, including visual experimentation, such as writing words in mirror images, writing them backwards, and then creating twelve-tone rows that mirrored the same process. It is an interesting intellectual experiment, but I struggle to call it music. Why? I’m not sure, but I think tonality, chord progressions, and patterns that sound “good” to the human ear may have some basis in nature. For example, in the past kings sometimes played music for soliders in the Locrian mode before battle to prepare them, while more consonant modes made people feel relaxed. Perhaps humans do not truly decide what music is. Somehow, certain sequences of sounds elicit strong emotions universally. How could this be? Why do particular sequences of chords affect us so profoundly?
I am all for creating something new. People should strive for innovation, but it cannot come solely from long, deliberate brain work, thinking and thinking, and attempts to make something complex merely for the sake of complexity. It does not matter whether we write key signatures or not, or what we call it.
In conclusion, I still do not fully understand Arnold Schoenberg’s music. I have read about it and listened to several explanations, but I still do not grasp it. I do, however, love the piano part in Pierrot Lunaire and some of the flute and piccolo writing. Yet much of the music feels random to me, almost like a Jackson Pollock painting, where paint is thrown onto the canvas. I love the chaos of Pierrot Lunaire, and in a way it reminds me of human life. Many parts of our lives are completely chaotic, impossible to control, and I can appreciate that connection between music and the times in which it was written. I also appreciate the thinking process of Schoenberg, and the desire to create something completely groundbreaking and new. However, in a piece like this, if any of the musicians made a mistake, the audience might not even notice. It would still sound “correct.” So can five musicians simply get together and play random notes and achieve the same effect? Probably not, Pierrot Lunaire is far more polished, with precise timing and control, but it was still difficult for me to listen to. The music did not evoke emotions and “music” for me beyond what came from the title, the text, the costume of Pierrot, and the overall gloomy atmosphere. I am not sure exactly what music is, but it is something that cannot be described in words, but it is deeply understood as something beyond earthly life.
I did find some beauty in it, almost as if we are on a strange planet, stuck in a cabaret with hopeless Pierrot while the rest of the world dissolves into chaos. I also felt a sense of confusion, perhaps similar to what Pierrot himself experiences, and maybe even what the musicians feel. In that sense, I can appreciate the thoughtfulness behind the work. Schoenberg may be expressing unpredictability, confusion, and the struggles of a modern hero and of ourselves. But I will probably not listen to this music again. My attempt to understand Schoenberg did not lead to my change in taste, but I do appreciate the man himself, his ambition, his art, his ideas, and the intention behind the music.
Bibliography
Andreyev, Samuel. How Did Schoenberg Compose Pierrot Lunaire? YouTube video, 23:21. June 8, 2019. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_dunOEm1sGk.
Andreyev, Samuel. “Nuria Schoenberg-Nono: The Composers in My Life.” Samuel Andreyev Podcast. Podcast audio. December 20, 2021. https://share.google/N4sWtnDtzjxiZK0Kj
Bryn-Julson, Phyllis, and Paul Mathews. Inside Pierrot Lunaire: Performing the Sprechstimme in Schoenberg's Masterpiece. New York: Oxford University Press, 2008.
Burkholder, J. Peter, and Claude V. Palisca. Norton Anthology of Western Music. 6th ed. New York: W. W. Norton, 2010.
Lunanova.org. “Pierrot Lunaire.” 2003. https://www.lunanova.org/pierrot/text.html.
Shawn, Allen. Arnold Schoenberg’s Journey. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003.
Yellow Barn. “Pierrot Lunaire Translation.” Accessed 2025. https://yellowbarn.org/sites/default/files/pierrot_lunaire_translation.pdf
