Acosta’s compositional method fundamentally renegotiates the power dynamics of the Western art music tradition. His use of open notation, modular structures, indeterminate instrumentation, and performer-defined repetitions and durations transforms interpretation from execution into one of relational co-authorship.
This is not a grant of unchecked freedom but a demand for guided commitment. As Acosta states, this indetermination is a conscious act of trust: "yo confío en el otro... es yo creo que el otro no es mala leche, yo creo que el otro quiere aportar al mejor resultado posible." (I trust the other... I believe the other doesn't have bad intentions, I believe the other wants to contribute to the best possible outcome.)
From the composer’s perspective, we can discern a sketch or draft of the work’s “skeleton,” along with basic directives on how to distribute participatory roles among percussion, bass, and melody. However, this structure is inherently fluid. While the skeletal proposal is clear, the duration of each module is determined by its interpreters. In other words, the responsibility for decisions regarding musical form weighs more heavily on the interpreters than on the composer. Similarly, musical elements such as timbre and register are chosen by the performers. While the score’s conventions clearly state that the entire register of the melodic and bass instruments should be utilized, there are no restrictions on which instruments to use. Therefore, the range of the acoustic spectrum depends on the ensemble’s decisions. The instruction to use the full register of the instruments is clear, but it coexists with a simultaneous freedom to interpret the composition using instruments that fall within any register. Consequently, decisions regarding orchestration, avoidance of acoustic voids, and selection of ranges again rest on the shoulders of the interpreters.
One example of this can be seen in the differences between the recorded versions. (see and listen to example 1.) The version of Portrait CD of Colombian composer Rodolfo Acosta, features nine performers plus a conductor, including a generous percussion set, electric bass, electric guitar, and piano as the base, and soprano voice, flutes, clarinets, English horn and French horn as part of the melodic instruments. The intentionality behind the decisions made regarding the proportion of instrumentation is clear; in this version the melodic instruments create a very special tapestry of voices that works precisely because five of the nine instruments are melodic.
In comparison, the version for four performers features a drum set in the percussion role, two electric guitars, and one soprano voice, with one of the guitars being the only instrument in the “bass” role. What is interesting here is how the range for the “bass” overlaps with that of the melodic instruments (in both cases, electric guitars). These decisions can be made for multiple reasons, from timbral exploration and experimentation with registers to something as simple as the need to make music with available resources. Acosta gives the performers the agency to make music with available means.
I interpret this redistribution of agency as a direct critique of the hierarchical chain of command that enabled the "false positives". In that context, as we have seen, the chain of command functioned so that no one questioned decisions, and those who physically committed the crime were executors following orders. This obedience, evident in the Colombian cases and similar historical crimes, also shows how the systematization of these criminal procedures shielded the leadership, the general, the ideologue, and the creator, ensuring they remained untainted.
In the micro-society of the performance, Acosta dismantles the figure of the omnipotent composer, and creates a system where, as he says,
"el hacerlo bien es una decisión ética, pura... no porque alguien pueda decirte lo estás haciendo mal." (Doing it well is a pure, ethical decision... not because someone can tell you you're doing it wrong.)
A particular case is that of Juan Manuel Santos, who, as Minister of Defense during Uribe’s presidency, was at the head of all military forces. After Uribe, and as the false positives cases came to light, Santos became President of Colombia for 8 years, and was later awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.
This ethos of "autorregulación" (self-regulation) stands in stark contrast to the tragedy of individuals in a military chain failing to exercise ethical judgment. It is a sonic practice of decolonial relationality that Vazquez defends, a way of being together where accountability is communal and internalized. Acosta directly links this to the political tragedy, stating that each murder was a tragedy stemming from a failure of autoregulacion (self-regulation), a failure to say “no” at any point in the chain of command. The work, therefore, becomes a training ground for an ethical, political education through sound.