AIR, in Music, is taken in different senses. It is sometimes contrasted with harmony; and in this sense, it is synonymous with melody in general.—Its proper meaning is, A tune, which is set to words, or to short pieces of poetry that are called songs.
In operas, we give the name of air to such pieces of music as are formed with measures and cadences, to distinguish it from the recitative; and, in general, every piece of music is called an air, which is formed for the voice, or even for instruments, and adapted to stanzas, whether it forms a whole in itself, or whether it can be detached from any whole of which it forms a part, and be executed alone.
If the subject admits of harmony, and is set in parts, the air is, according to their number, denominated a duett, a trio, a quartetto, &c. We need not follow Rousseau, and the other philologists, in their endeavours to investigate the etymon of the word air. Its deriva-
tion, though found and ascertained, would contribute little to illustrate its meaning in that remote sense, to which, through a long continuance of time, and the various vicissitudes of language, it has now passed. The curious may consult the same article in the Dictionnaire de Musique by M. Rousseau.
In modern music, there are several different kinds of airs, each of which agrees to a certain kind of dancing; and from these dances the airs themselves take their specific names.
The airs of our operas are, if we may be permitted the expression, the canvas or substratum upon which are painted all the pictures of imitative music; melody is the design, and harmony the colouring; every picturesque object selected from the most beautiful parts of nature, every reflected sentiment of the human heart, are the models which the artist imitates; whatever gains attention, whatever interests the soul, whatever charms the ear, or causes emotion in the heart, these are the objects of his imitation. An air which delights the ear, and discovers the learning of the composer; an air invented by genius, and composed with taste; is the noblest effort of music: it is this which explores the compass, and displays the delicacy, of a beautiful voice; it is in this where the charms of a well conducted symphony shine; it is by this, that the passions, excited and inflamed by nice gradations, reach and agitate the soul through the avenues of external sense. After hearing a beautiful air, the mind is acquiescent and serene: the ear is satisfied, not disgusted; it remains impressed on the fancy, it becomes a part of our essence, we carry it with us, we are able to repeat it at pleasure: without the ability acquired by habit to breathe a single note of it, we execute it in our imagination in the same manner as we heard it upon the theatre: one sees the scene, the actor, the theatre; one hears the accompaniments and the applause. The real enthusiast in music never forgets the beautiful airs which he has heard; when he chooses, he causes the opera to recommence.
The words to which airs are adapted are not always rehearsed in regular succession, nor spoken in the same manner with those of the recitative; and though, in general, they are very short, yet they are interrupted, repeated, transposed, at the pleasure of the artist. They do not constitute a narrative, which once told is over; they either delineate a picture, which it is necessary to contemplate in different points of view; or inspire a sentiment in which the heart acquiesces with pleasure, and from which it is neither able nor willing to be disengaged; and the different phrases of the air, are nothing else but different manners of beholding the same image. This is the reason why the subject of an air should be one. It is by these repetitions properly placed, it is by these redoubled efforts, that an impression, which at first was not able to move you, at length shakes your soul, agitates you, transports you out of yourself: and it is likewise upon the same principle, that the runnings, as they are called, or those long, mazy, and inarticulate inflections of the voice, in pathetic airs, frequently seem, though they are not always so, improperly placed: for whilst the heart is affected with a sentiment exquisitely moving, it often expresses its emotions by inarticulate sounds, more strongly and sensibly than it could do by words themselves.
Air-Pipes. The form of airs is of two kinds. The small airs are often composed of two strains, which ought each of them to be sung twice; but the important airs in operas are frequently in the form of rondeaus.