United States
Your businessYour website.
Pick one of the 10+ designs, or I build one from scratch. I fill it with your words and photos, and you see the first screen before you decide — $300 to start, $300 at launch.










Pick one of the 10+ designs, or I build one from scratch. I fill it with your words and photos, and you see the first screen before you decide — $300 to start, $300 at launch.










They search your name, find a phone number and nothing else — no finished jobs, no prices, no proof you are still working. Then they call the company that had all of it on one page. That page is what I build.
finished designs, all live — open any of them
services, past work, reviews, contact
half to start, half at launch, hosting included
the site and the domain stay in your name
Each one is a complete site, not a single page. They are all live: open any of them and click around before you decide.
The demos are filled with sample companies and sample photographs, so you can see how each design behaves. Yours is filled with your own words and your own photos.
Large serif headlines, circular photo frames and a single violet accent on a quiet white page — calm, unhurried, never raising its voice. Six pages: the work, the studio, a journal you can keep writing, an estimate that adds itself up while you fill it in, and contact. Halfway down the whole page turns black, and that is the moment people remember.
Sunlit and easy, the way a place looks in the photographs that make someone come and see it. Big pictures from the first screen, a page for every layout with its plan and its price, and twelve pages in all — gallery, the streets around the building, the questions people actually ask, and a step-by-step application with the form at the end. It feels lived-in rather than advertised.
Unhurried and expensive-looking: warm light, wide margins, photographs given room to breathe. Five pages — exactly what you do and what it costs, the people who finish what they start, a before-and-after slider you drag across the photo, and a contact page that opens with a conversation instead of a form. Quiet, and sure of itself.
Cold, large and confident: pale type on near-black, photographs bleeding off the edges, nothing decorative anywhere. Every project gets its own page with the brief, the pictures and the numbers, next to a news page and a contact page that stays out of the way. It reads like a monograph rather than a website.
Warm and direct — the reviews and the phone number sit on the first screen, and nothing stands between the visitor and the call. Five pages: everything you do with the price beside it, the crew, the jobs you finished, and a contact page that promises an answer today. The whole thing feels like a handshake.
Evening light, slow fades and pages that behave like a brochure you do not want to put down. A page for every project with its galleries, floor plans and amenities, nineteen pages in all, plus a blog and a short enquiry form sitting on every project page. The photographs carry it; the type stays quiet underneath.
Near-black and cinematic, built so the photography is the only thing you notice. A page for every kind of shoot — hotels, camping, gastro, lifestyle, cities from above — next to a wall of client marks, a video page and 360° tours you can walk through. The whole site exists twice, in English and in German.
Warm greens, soft serif headlines and rooms shot in daylight: calm, and a little bit expensive. Eight pages — the services one by one, furniture packages, a portfolio, an FAQ, and a booking page where the visitor picks the time. Nothing on it shouts, which is exactly the point.
The loud one: real 3D, covers that turn as you scroll, type that reacts to the cursor and a client strip that never stops moving. Three sections — brands, marketing and the studio itself — a wall of work, a services block and a contact form at the end. It looks like it cost far more than it did.
Quiet editorial type over photographs that slide as you scroll — rooms, cafe and bar, gallery, and how to find the place. Sixteen pages, the whole site in English and Japanese, with a reservation button that follows the visitor the whole way down. Still and expensive-looking, with the photographs doing all the talking.
Cold and precise, laid out the way an engineer would: a schedule in weeks, itemized costs, and an estimate that adds up on the page while you read it. Five pages, including a service sheet with rates and a site log of finished jobs. Nothing here is trying to charm anyone — and that is the charm.
Heavy from the first screen: machines, dust and weight, in dark grey and safety yellow. Then capabilities, markets, technology, leadership, safety and a news page with a filter — seventeen pages in all, with a careers section that has its own inquiry form. Blunt, solid, built to look like it has done this before.
Nobody buys something they have not seen. The first screen comes first, then half the price to start and half when the site goes live.
Or tell me none of them fit, and I design one for you instead.
Jobs you are proud of, what you do, where you work, how people reach you. I write the first version of the text from that.
Usually inside a week, under your own domain. Two rounds of changes are in the price, and the second half is due when it goes live.
The design you choose filled with your photos and services, up to six pages, a mobile version, a contact form and tap-to-call, your domain set up in your name, and the first year of hosting. No monthly fee — after the first year hosting stays in your name and costs a few dollars a month, paid to the host, not to me.
No. $600 once, and that is the whole price — $300 to start and $300 when the site goes live. The first year of hosting is inside it. After that year the hosting stays in your name and costs a few dollars a month, paid to the host — not to me.
You see the first screen before anything is agreed. I build it from your own photos and send it over. If it is wrong, tell me what is wrong and I change it; if it is still not right, we stop there. When you say yes, $300 starts the build and the last $300 is due at launch.
You do. The domain is registered in your name, the site is yours, and you can hand it to anyone else at any time. Nothing is rented from me and there is nothing to cancel.
Six to ten photos of finished jobs, a list of what you do, the area you cover, a phone number and your hours. Photos from your phone are fine. I write the first version of the text from that, and you correct anything that does not sound like you.
A few days for the preview, and usually under a week from the photos to a working site under your own domain. The slow part is waiting for photos, not the building.
I will build the first screen of your site from them and send it back. The first screen is on me — if it is not right, we stop there. Tell me what you do and where you work; a few photos of a finished job are enough to start.
Ardera Studio is one person — Artem Bondarenko. You deal with me directly, from the first message to the last change.