Your website is the gallery. The work should get the wall space. Give each piece room, make availability and details easy to understand, and give collectors a clear way to buy, ask or commission without burying the art in copy. Built from a 10-to-30-minute questionnaire, in front of you in 48 hours. $40 a month, sent from your account.
Open the sample website to try it on your phone.
Open kentamori.com ›An example, not a template. Kenta Mori is not a real artist — the paintings are public-domain museum works standing in for real photography, and the demo says so on every page. What it shows is the shape we’d build for a working artist: five pages — home, the gallery, the commissions process, the practice, the way in. Walk the full five-page demo ›
Nobody has an art emergency. A collector browses from desire, spends minutes instead of seconds, and buys when the work moves them and nothing on the page breaks the spell. Everything a trade site leads with — speed, availability, guarantees — is noise here. What carries an artist site is different:
One painting fills the first screen, uncropped, with your name and a quiet line under it. No buttons competing with the work. On this kind of site the copy supports the photos, not the other way round.
Hidden prices are the number-one reason people don’t buy art online. Per piece or honest ranges — “originals from $400” beats silence, and what’s included (framed or unframed, shipped rolled or flat) beats both.
Sold pieces stay on the wall, marked. A gallery with sold marks reads as a working artist whose work moves. Hiding them throws away the strongest social proof this kind of site has.
The materials named exactly, the training told as a story, the studio visible, the inspirations specific. Collectors ask one silent question: is this a real practicing artist? — and the about page answers it before any award could.
A commission converts when the page describes how it actually goes: conversation, sketch, deposit, painting, approval, delivery — with an honest timeline. The first message is a conversation, not an order form.
At original-work prices, a conversation is how art sells, so every piece carries an inquire link that arrives with the painting already named. Prints can carry a buy link alongside, from your own Stripe or shop link, wired in.
Not a template with your name on it. It is a structure that matches how a collector moves: struck by one work, then browsing, then wondering who you are, then writing to you.
We’ll tell you if the photos aren’t there yet. For most businesses we build for, mediocre photos are a cosmetic problem. For an artist they’re a no-build — the site can only ever be as good as the photography of the work.
What it takes is not a professional shoot: straight-on, evenly lit, no glare, big files. If your photos aren’t there yet, that’s the first thing to fix, before design, before copy, before anything we do. The questionnaire asks, and we mean it.
We studied how artists who actually sell talk to their customers — these are the conventions your customers already expect. The questionnaire is where you pick which of these belong on your site.
Restrained copy, one piece given room at a time, and an image hierarchy that treats the site like the gallery it is. The rest of this list exists to get them to that message.
Status, dimensions, medium and year on every work. Collectors won’t email to ask the basics, and a visible “sold” is quiet proof that buying happens here.
Prices on the wall or prices on request. Either works, but saying which is the difference between an inquiry and a browser who assumes they can’t afford to ask.
From first conversation to deposit to studio updates to delivery, laid out in steps, so commissioning a piece looks like a clear process you’ve run before, not a special request.
Every site we build comes with a console — tools or no tools. It is the back room of your own website at yourdomain.com/console, on the phone in the studio and the desktop at home. For an artist, the screens that earn their place:
Every piece with its price and status, so the wall on your site matches the wall in your studio.
A commission question or a print request in one list rather than across email, Instagram and a text message.
Who bought what, and when. A collector who bought once comes back through the mailing list, not the gallery.
You answer questions in your own words: what you call your art, which piece opens the site, whether you show prices, how a commission actually goes. If long-form writing is hard, answer them as voice memos and we shape the words without changing their character. In front of you in 48 hours, live on your own domain when you approve it, $40 a month, or $400 for the year, and five edit requests a month for as long as the site is yours. Your domain is billed separately at exact registry cost, about $11 a year, in your name from the first day. Cancel anytime, with 14 days to change your mind; $499 less your plan credit buys the site outright and ends the monthly, whenever you want.