Art-Business: The Space Between

Episode 2 – Theo Knipfing

Art-Business: The Space Between — When Placemaking Becomes Strategy

Art-Business: The Space Between explores the intersection where art, culture, and business quietly shape how we experience cities, brands, and physical space.

In a rapidly digitizing world, why do physical spaces still matter? I sat down with Theo Knipfing, founder of Plus Curiosity—a Tokyo-based boutique placemaking consultancy that partners with leading real estate developers, multinational firms, and global luxury brands. With this unique vantage point, Theo offers rare insight into the shifting landscape of commercial real estate in Asia, the importance of “urban mythology,” and the challenges of implementing global placemaking strategies in Japan.

Q: To begin, could you share a bit about your background and what led you to establish Plus Curiosity?

A: My background is in commercial real estate leasing. I spent years representing major global brands—from Apple to luxury fashion houses—helping them secure locations across Asia. I was the person negotiating on behalf of the brand to get into a development.

Life was going well, but around 2015, I noticed a shift. In the old days, having a nice building and good tenants was the solution. That was enough. But I realized the world was moving in a direction where that formula was no longer sufficient. What was missing was curation.

Hotels have been doing this for a long time. In a great hotel, everything is there for a purpose: the art, the scent, the lighting, the music, the service. It creates a total ambience. Historically, developers would just rent to tenants, and the tenants would create their own unconnected atmospheres. But today, the developer needs to create a cohesive ambience for the entire development.

I realized there was a need for strategy—not just event planning, but creating a philosophical backbone for a place.

Q: You often use the term "Mythologies" when discussing this strategy. What does that mean in a real estate context?

A: A development project takes years to complete. People come and go; teams change. Without a strong central concept, the vision gets diluted.

We create a story—a mythology—at the very beginning of the cycle, often before the architect is even chosen. Who are we targeting? What is the narrative? This story acts as a "True North" that brings everyone back to the basics when things get complicated. Roppongi Hills is a great example of this; they had a clear concept of an "Art Intelligence City" from the start, and that narrative guided every decision, from the museum on the top floor to the art on the street.

Q: What is your specific approach to these projects?

A: We operate on three pillars.

First, we have an international mindset. Even if a project is local, we benchmark it against global standards.

Second, we are luxury-focused. We like to work on high-end projects because, much like the automotive industry, innovation happens at the top. Technologies like ABS brakes or power windows started in luxury cars like Ferrari or Mercedes before trickling down to mass-market vehicles. By working with top-tier developments, we can more effectively introduce changes that eventually influence the wider market.

Third, we are future-focused. These developments take 10 to 15 years to plan and build. If we plan for the current core demographic (typically, people in their 30s and 40s spend the most money), they won't be the target audience by the time we open. We have to design for the younger generation to ensure the property remains relevant 40 years from now.

Q: Can you share some of the projects you have been involved in?

A: While many of our projects won't open for another decade, I can say we are working on laying the groundwork for the redevelopment of the Tsukiji area, which is a massive undertaking. We want to make it an engaging learning experience for both Japanese and international audiences.

We work with most of the large developers in Japan—Mitsui Fudosan, Tokyo Tatemono, Sumitomo Corporation—and we are currently doing something very exciting in Nihonbashi with Nomura.

We also work with department store groups. For example, we were involved in the art program and VIP strategy for Ginza Six. When they opened, the demographic mix—younger people and international visitors—was different than expected, so we helped adapt the strategy. We are also leading the consulting and planning for the redevelopment of the Ginza Core building.

Q: One of the biggest challenges in placemaking is the gap between business objectives and the "experience." Do developers generally understand the value of what you do?

A: The honest answer? No. It’s a process.

If you look at professional sports, like when Japan created a pro soccer league, it took 20 years to mature and produce world-class players. Similarly, even if Japanese developers realize they need placemaking, it takes a generation to truly understand how to implement it intuitively.

The bosses look at spreadsheets. They ask, "How does hanging avant-garde art from the ceiling help my bottom line next quarter?"

It’s difficult to put a specific dollar amount on the value of placemaking, but ultimately, they understand the alternative: if people don't come, tenants don't make money. If tenants don't make money, they leave.

Q: You sometimes get involved in execution, branding, and even leasing. Why is that necessary if your role is strategy?

A: It’s about maintaining the purity of the concept. Think of the "telephone game"—if ten people whisper a message down the line, the final message is completely different from the start.

We might create a strong international concept, but if it’s handed off to a local branding firm that doesn’t understand the nuance, or a leasing team that brings in the wrong coffee shop, the concept collapses. We naturally started getting involved in branding and leasing to ensure that the original "mythology" survives the process intact.

Q: Let’s talk about Art. Is it the primary engine of placemaking?

A: I wouldn’t say it’s the primary engine, but it is essential. To go back to the hotel analogy: if you took the art out, the hotel is just a room.

Art and luxury go hand-in-hand. When you see sophisticated art in a space, you feel more sophisticated. You enjoy your time, you stay longer, and yes, you spend more.

But it’s not just about hanging a painting and leaving it there for 30 years. In the age of Instagram, you need constant novelty. Remo Ruffini, the CEO of Moncler, changed his company’s model from two seasons a year to a rolling release system because he realized his customers spend an hour a day on Instagram. They need to see something new constantly. Real estate is the same—we need constant programming, pop-ups, and cultural activations to drive the algorithm and bring people in.

Q: Implementing this in Japan must have unique cultural hurdles. What are they?

A: Japan is a Shokunin (craftsman) culture. Whether it’s a sushi chef or a bartender, the focus is on the perfection of the craft. In that mindset, "entertainment" or "ambience" is often seen as a gimmick—something that distracts from the product.

In many countries, you go to a bar to be loud and have fun. In Japan, an old-school bartender might expect you to be quiet and respect the craft of the cocktail. It is almost sacrilegious to rely on art or music to bring people in when the star should be the sushi or the drink. Bridging that gap—helping developers understand that the modern consumer wants the total experience, not just the product—is a big part of our work.

To solve this, we often take executives overseas. A picture tells a thousand words, but a trip tells a million. When they see how a resort in Aspen or a development in London integrates art and lifestyle, they get it immediately.

Q: Finally, looking 10 years into the future, are you optimistic about the future of physical spaces?

A: Absolutely. I believe we are approaching a peak of "digital fatigue."

People are realizing that there is a limit to online connection. We are happier when we meet in person, eat together, see art together, and listen to live music together. Humans are social animals; we are meant to congregate.

My conviction is that creating cultured, diverse, and well-curated places is ultimately better for humanity. We need to build cities that encourage people to put their phones down and connect. That belief is what drives us to push for these strategies today, so they are ready for the world we’ll live in ten years from now.