The Hauntingly Beautiful Paintings of American Artist Daniel Ambrose
The landscape paintings of American Artist Daniel Ambrose are renowned for their extraordinary luminosity and remarkable power to evoke a spiritual sense of place. A master of the rare, 15th century, Renaissance technique of egg tempera painting, Ambrose’s researched-based paintings evince an understated, ethereal beauty, seldom found in contemporary art.
A Florida native with a professional career spanning over 25 years, Ambrose's paintings have been exhibited in numerous solo gallery shows and many fine museums including; Florida Historic Capitol Museum, Jacksonville Museum of Art, Leepna-Ratner Museum, Museum of Florida Art. Corporate, and public collections include S. James Foxman Justice Center, Bank of America, Florida Memorial Hospital, The cities of Eustis and Orlando, Daytona Beach International Airport, and the Permanent Collection of The Museum of Arts and Sciences.
"Ambrose is an extremely talented painter whose work never ceases to delight me. As an art curator I have been privileged to work with him to present exhibitions of his work and to buy examples of his work for museum collections." -- David Swoyer
Presently, Daniel paints exclusively for galleries and a private collectors list.
Suntan oil and salt spray drift beneath the falsetto pleas of gulls as I finish a small plein air seascape painting of the morning. An exercise that began with a sense of vagueness, and ended with a feeling of accomplishment.
I have not wasted the morning, nor let the light pass unnoticed.
Capturing the quickly changing colors of a seascape sunrise is a challenging occupation. After laying in the major lines; horizon, darker waves, cloud suggestions, I lightly. . .
Maybe its the moon, or memories of a loved river. Maybe its the winos sipping from paper bags, that I watched through car windows on dusty Sunday mornings, as my father dutifully drove us to church. The Church, where the priest spoke words I couldn’t understand and nuns yanked my ears to make sure I did. . .