In several of his works, Dalwood begins from anecdotes. Archaeology of Indifference and Andy in Mexico are examples of this process. Andy Warhol visited Teotihuacán, without stepping out of the car. His biographer Bob Colacello recounts in The Atlantic that Warhol refused to get out, uninterested in what he described as “a pile of rocks.” In contrast, during his visit to the Basilica of Guadalupe, Colacello describes his surprise at Warhol’s devotion as he joined in the religious rituals.

Dalwood’s paintings are full of these connections: historical and social moments intertwined with direct references to art history. In Tlatelolco, we encounter the iconic scoreboard of the Estadio Olímpico Universitario, used during the 1968 Mexico City Olympics. In this version, the screen no longer shows competition results but instead the name of this area of the city, which, since October 2, 1968, has become synonymous with the repression of student protests. In the background appears a reference to the work of American painter Morris Louis, a leading figure of Color Field Painting, whose influence still resonates today.

Described in this way, Dalwood’s work might seem like a network of references that only reveals itself as each one is identified. “Here’s Morris Louis.” “This must be a nod to Warhol.” “This recalls the composition of a forgotten piece by Velasco.” All of these readings are valid, but incomplete. The artist’s intention is lost if we approach his work only through this lens of reference and recognition.

Dalwood invites the viewer to use the elements within each painting to speculate and form new connections, completing the blank space that hovers around every work. At the same time, he draws attention to painting itself, to its materiality, plasticity, and autonomy, which, far from being a faithful copy of an image, brings us closer to painting as an object.

In Inventory of a Landscape, this process becomes clear. Reading each word triggers a mental image. It is through this act of imagining and constructing that the visual experience truly unfolds. Just as Bernal Díaz del Castillo, in The True History of The Conquest of New Spain, or Alexander von Humboldt, in his naturalist studies, created new representations of the world, Dalwood reminds us that looking also means interpreting and constructing new memories.