Somewhere around 2018, the team at Artereal began discussing the idea of presenting online shows. The thorny question at the time was whether or not to include pricing information. Selling artworks online was considered anathema in the art world, and we wrestled with how to present these exhibitions in a way that stayed true to the artworks and maintained our curatorial integrity. After all, we are incurable snobs and didn’t want to simply tack an “online shop” onto our website.

After a year of deliberation, we worked with our designers to create a simple online template—no 3D modelled spaces (something that never quite clicked with us)—just a clean format that allowed the artwork and the artist’s vision to shine through. The template sat ready to go, and we planned to launch our online program in 2020, moving forward at a leisurely pace and presenting shows whenever compelling new artworks crossed our path.

And then, 2020 hit.

Suddenly, Artereal Gallery was closed. Art Month Sydney, which we were midway through, ground to a halt. (I was on the Board at the time, and I’ll never forget the rapid-fire emergency meetings we held as we cancelled event after event, until the entire festival was called off.) Artereal’s scheduled exhibitions, planned at least two years in advance, were all melting away, and I had no answer when Artist after Artist asked, “When will my show be rescheduled?”

We had no idea when we’d reopen. The business of selling art felt secondary in the face of everything happening in the world, but also more essential than ever—after all, we had artists to support, and what better time to focus on the importance of beauty and creativity? So, we turned to online shows. Within just seven days of closing for the first lockdown, we launched our first online show: a solo presentation of paintings by Sylvia Schwenk.

We needed an online program, and it had to be strong. We reached out to our artists, and miraculously, many of them had new works ready. What followed was a lineup of solo shows, with highlights from Ebony Russell, Luke Ryan O’Connor, Patrizia Biondi, and Max Lawrence White.

“The pivot to online shows connected us with a new cohort of collectors, and the experience, though strange, felt fertile with potential.” 

– Rhianna Melhem

Looking back, I’m proud to say we made the conscious decision not to push exhibitions that were already programmed for 2020 onto the online platform. Though delayed, these shows eventually came to life as physical exhibitions in the gallery. Instead, our online program featured works that were either created specifically for or nominated by artists for online presentation.

And so, a new era of online exhibitions was born—not just for us, but for the broader Australian and international art world. We broke long-standing rules, unashamedly included pricing, and added “Buy Now” links. We even began FaceTiming clients, walking them around artworks in our stockroom to give them a better sense of pieces they’d seen online. To our surprise, many of these early shows sold out—an exhilarating time that allowed us to innovate without constraints.

After that, we never looked back. From early 2020 onward, we maintained a rapid-fire pace of new online shows every two weeks, a schedule that continued until 2022, when my maternity leave slowed the rhythm to once a month. Over time, the purpose of these shows evolved, giving artists a platform to showcase work created in between major exhibitions and allowing them to explore more experimental, left-field pieces that might not fit into our physical program.

Despite the challenges, the pivot to online shows connected us with a new cohort of collectors, and the experience, though strange, felt fertile with potential. Our ability to adapt during the 2020-21 COVID lockdowns, when we were closed to the public for over 280 days, remains one of my proudest memories. We stuck together, we thrived, and we broke down barriers, making art more accessible to a broader audience and proving that it’s okay to talk about pricing and to be upfront about selling art.

After 19 years, Artereal Gallery closed in March 2025. This article is part of the gallery’s ‘On Reflection’ series of essays.