The conversation with Sophie Vander took place at Curatorial+Co. showing paintings by Leonie Barton and sculptures by Caroline Duffy.
Sophie Vander is the founder of Curatorial+Co. ,one of Australia's first curated online galleries, now a thriving Woolloomooloo-based space representing over 40 artists. We sat down with Sophie to talk about how she built her gallery from scratch, what she looks for in emerging artists, and why it's never too late to pursue your creative calling.
How did you start your journey in the art world?
I had to make it myself, essentially. I studied fine art theory at COFA in the early 90s. I wanted to be a curator, an art writer, but I just couldn't get a job. I volunteered at the Art Gallery of New South Wales for two years, wrote for free for art publications, all of that. But you had to know somebody or be related to somebody, and I'd moved down from Brisbane at 17 with no connections.
So, I accidentally ended up as an EA to a publisher in magazines, and within a year, I was editing publications. I stayed in magazines for 20 years. It was the heady days of the 90s and 2000s when every business had their own magazine. I was the first editor of the Virgin in-flight magazine.
Then, my husband's job took us to Seattle for seven years and then to Singapore, where I was the trailing spouse and not allowed to work. That's when I dreamt up what I should have been doing all along — starting the gallery. We got back home, bought a house that same week so I had an address for an ABN, registered a business name, and got a website. It literally all happened in the first week. I'd been bored stupid in Singapore for three years, and I was just ready.
Because I had four girls and couldn't be in a gallery full time, I started Curatorial+Co. as an online-only gallery; one of the first curated online galleries in Australia. Then came pop-up shows around Sydney and Melbourne, and it was a baby-step process from there: the dining room table, a self-storage unit, a tiny shopfront on the Pacific Highway, and eventually a 300-square-metre space in Redfern, which I signed the lease on in March 2020, coincidentally one week before we went into lockdown.
What happened during that time? How did you overcome such a challenge?
It was a very expensive storage unit for a while! We weren't allowed to open until around August or September. Yet when we did, it was actually phenomenal. People couldn't travel, they were on Zoom calls wanting art behind them, and they were supporting the visual arts in a way they hadn't before. Being online was our saviour. We had a very well-oiled online machine already running, so when we finally opened the physical space, we had so much PR around it because we were essentially the only good news story. It worked in our favour without us even really planning for it.
From there, we just slowly built. We've gone from one staff member to eleven in five years. We now have the gallery exhibition program representing around 40-plus artists, and a commercial art consultancy arm that places work in hotels, public spaces, corporate and residential spaces — basically anywhere outside the gallery walls.
How do you know which artist to represent? What happens when you see a piece that stops you?
What happens is exactly the right way to put it, because something does happen. It's a visceral experience. It will take my breath away, stop me in my tracks. If it doesn't do that, it's probably not for me. We get submissions daily, and I have to have that reaction.
Art has to make you feel something, and it doesn't matter what that feeling is. It could be fear as well as beauty, repulsion as well as love, or simply intrigue: what is that? I want to know more. Whatever it is, it has to grab me in that split second.
I also have to believe in the artist's potential and in what they're trying to say. Decorative art has its place, and there are very successful artists working in that space. I take nothing away from them or the people who collect their work, but for me, there has to be something deeper underneath. Something unique, even if everything has technically been done before.
I've always been drawn to artists doing interesting things with materials. Whether it's a painter using really rich impasto work, that built-up, chunky paint, or layering, even mixing sand into paint to create texture. When I see someone pushing what a material can do, that gets me.
'Corona' by Caroline Duffy
You're wearing a Kasmiri cashmere wrap today. How does it make you feel?
Like the art I curate, I'm drawn to texture. I'm a deeply tactile person, so a Kasmiri cashmere wrap is pure joy, whether I'm at the gallery or out to dinner. I wear a lot of black, so I find myself returning to my black travel wrap again and again. It's warm, effortlessly comfortable, and there's something about putting it on that just makes you feel wonderful. It's also one of those rare pieces that travels beautifully, the kind of thing you reach for on a long-haul flight and somehow still look put-together when you land.
What would you say is the key to your success?
Having a great team, first and foremost, that's non-negotiable. Beyond that, it really comes down to this: just keep going. Someone once challenged me on it, asking, "When is enough enough?" And honestly, I don't know. Infinite, perhaps. There's a whole world out there, and I'm not ready to stop reaching for it.
I don't think I've arrived at success yet, and I'm not sure I ever fully will, because I'm not entirely certain what it looks like. The potential feels endless, and I think that's exactly how it should be.
You support a lot of emerging artists, but what does "emerging" actually mean?
I started supporting emerging artists, and now ten years in, those same artists are mid-career. One of my artists, also in her 70s, jokes that she's the oldest, longest-working emerging artist in history. She's joking, but also not.
Typically, an emerging artist is someone who isn't represented and hasn't had a significant solo show, but the timeframe is loose. For me, it's really someone who hasn't yet had the opportunity to show their work to a broader audience, and that comes down to exhibitions, representation, and opportunity, whether here or abroad.
Mid-career tends to mean you've had a number of solo shows, entered prizes, done residencies, and have some time behind you as a maker, age has absolutely nothing to do with it. You can be an emerging artist at 50, 60, 70 or even 80. Some of our most incredible First Nations artists didn't start painting until they were in their 80s. It's really just about time and opportunity. I think of Curatorial+Co. as a pathway gallery that gives artists a way forward.
Weather Vane #1 by Leonie Barton
You do a significant amount of work beyond the gallery walls — hotels, corporates, private homes. Can you talk about that side of the business?
It's honestly one of my favourite things we do. The consultancy covers everything from helping someone find a single piece for their wall to curating an entire home from scratch, and everything in between. We work closely with interior designers as well as directly with private clients, and I always tell people who say they don't know anything about art: you know more than you think. You know what moves you and, just as usefully, what doesn't. Sometimes the dislikes tell us more than the likes ever could. We once had a client who announced she hated purple, and walked out with a purple piece. The lesson? Stay open.
We're also, it turns out, occasional marriage counselors. Taste is personal, and when two people share a home, that can make for some interesting conversations. It's part of the job, and we love it.
On the commercial side, hotels are a particular joy. There's something deeply satisfying about replacing the tired, ubiquitous black-and-white photograph with something that genuinely surprises people. We work with emerging artists to create original works at scale, a commission of 300 pieces, say, while also bringing in more established names for the bespoke installations that anchor a lobby or define a dining space. No brief is too big or too niche. At the heart of it, what drives me is simply placing art in the world, in real spaces, where real people encounter it every day.
Sophie Vander & Anna Kiousis
As a woman running a gallery, have you faced particular challenges?
Women always face challenges, and the art world is no exception. Gallery ownership has historically been a male-dominated space, with a long and entrenched lineage. However, some extraordinary women have carved out something genuinely remarkable within it. At the institutional level, the tide is clearly turning: right now, every major cultural institution in New South Wales, from the Powerhouse and the Art Gallery of NSW to the Australian Museum, is led by a woman. That feels both significant and, frankly, long overdue.
Where the gap remains most glaring is in institutional collections. The Countess Report, produced by the Sheila Institute, tracks gender representation in the arts annually, and the numbers are still confronting: 70% of art school graduates are female, yet women account for only around 30% of artists held in institutional collections worldwide. The pipeline is full. The walls, in too many places, remain closed.
That said, I genuinely believe female leadership is changing the culture of the institutions it touches, and I've seen it firsthand. The transformation Kim McKay has driven at the Australian Museum over 12 years is evident to anyone paying attention. I think it comes down to the way women tend to lead: with open communication, real empathy, and a deep investment in the people around them. You cannot build a great team without those qualities. Increasingly, the results speak for themselves.
What's your favourite place to travel?
Budapest, without question. It's a city that never stops surprising you. What I find endlessly fascinating is the way its buildings refuse to be defined by a single purpose or era. It is constantly changing. A grand 19th-century bathhouse may become a ruin bar, whilst a former stock exchange becomes a concert hall. The architecture tells the story of a city that has been many things to many people, and holds all of those layers at once.
I was also fortunate to attend one of our artists, Tiarna Herczeg's, exhibitions there, and to also share the experience with my daughter, which made it all the more special. Travelling together in that context is something I'll carry with me for a long time.