There comes a point as an artist where the things surrounding the work begin to matter almost as much as the work itself.
Not in a cynical way. Not in a “branding exercise” kind of way. More in the sense that if you are asking people to spend time with your work, connect with it emotionally, or even invest in it financially, then the experience around the artwork matters too.
That realisation is what led me to completely rebuild my website.
In this day and age, having a website almost feels like a given. The internet gives us our own small piece of virtual real estate where we can present our work to the world from the comfort of our own homes. The problem is that there are millions of websites all competing for attention, and simply having one is no longer enough.
A couple of years ago I bought the domain paulkneen.co.uk and had a website built around it. At the time, I thought the best strategy was to show everything I had ever done. I wanted visitors to see how varied I’d been and all the different creative paths I had explored over the years.
Looking back now, I realise the website reflected exactly where I was as an artist at that point in my life.
I knew I was an artist, but I didn’t yet know what kind of artist I was.
The site was cluttered, visually noisy and stylistically all over the place. In trying to show every side of myself creatively, the website unintentionally suggested I had no real identity at all. It felt like I was trying to prove myself in every direction at once.
To be honest, that was probably true.
Finding clarity through the work
In November 2022 I was offered a solo exhibition at Peterborough Museum and Art Gallery. The exhibition opened in April 2024, and the time between those two dates became hugely important for me creatively. It gave me space to develop the work, question what I actually wanted to say as an artist and, ultimately, begin refining the visual language I now work within.
That journey led me towards abstract portraiture exploring emotion, pressure, inner noise and what it feels like to navigate modern life.
As the work became clearer, the disconnect between the paintings and the website became impossible to ignore.
My solo exhibition at Peterborough Museum and Art Gallery became a turning point in helping me define my direction as an artist
The more confident I became in my artistic direction, the more the old website began to feel like a reflection of an older version of myself. There was never one dramatic moment where I decided it needed to change, but after the solo exhibition that feeling gradually became stronger and stronger until eventually I knew I had to rebuild it completely.
Oddly enough, I found the process exciting rather than difficult.
Removing older work didn’t feel emotional or uncomfortable. If anything, it felt liberating. It was like shedding an old skin. The clutter disappeared and, in its place, a much more focused and driven version of myself began to emerge.
Stripping away the noise
The new website is now entirely centred around my abstract portrait paintings. It is cleaner, calmer and far more intentional. Simplicity sounds easy until you actually try to achieve it. Removing distractions, refining layouts, improving speed, testing mobile experiences, optimising images and creating space around the artwork all became part of the process.
The goal wasn’t simply to make the website “look professional.” It was to create a space where the work could finally breathe.
I’ve always believed presentation matters. First impressions matter. If somebody discovers your work online, your website is often their first real experience of you as an artist. A cluttered or confusing website can unintentionally affect how the work itself is perceived.
I wanted the artwork to take centre stage.
More importantly, I wanted people to understand me more quickly when they arrived there. Whether somebody connects with the work or not, I now feel the website reflects a clear artistic identity. The visual language is consistent. The work speaks to the same themes. Hopefully, the people who connect with it will immediately feel that sense of recognition.
I’ve written before about the importance of leaving room for the viewer within my abstract portraits — creating paintings that allow people to project their own emotions and experiences into the work. In many ways, I think the new website reflects that same mindset. There is more space, less noise and a clearer sense of intention.
The many hats artists now wear
The rebuild also reinforced something else I’ve spoken about many times before: the number of hats artists now have to wear.
Painting is only one part of the job.
Alongside creating the work itself, artists today often find themselves learning about websites, photography, shipping, marketing and online sales systems. It can feel endless at times, but strangely I’ve enjoyed the learning curve. There is something satisfying about understanding how the whole ecosystem works rather than relying entirely on other people to manage it for you.
More than anything though, rebuilding the site has made everything feel more aligned. The work, the presentation and the direction all finally feel like they belong together.
For the first time, I feel like people arriving on the site are seeing a clear reflection of who I am as an artist today.
In many ways, the rebuild was less about creating a new website and more about stripping away the noise until what remained finally felt honest.
