Greenwich Peninsula: Culture beyond the Campaigns

This month, the spotlight is firmly on Greenwich Peninsula. Planning permission has been granted for Troubadour Greenwich Peninsula Theatre, a 3,000-capacity, purpose-built venue set to open in late 2026. The news landed with a wave of headlines, supported by our team, and marks the latest cultural anchor to arrive in a place that has long said put and culture at its core.

Troubadour’s arrival is not a one-off win, but part of a much longer cultural strategy from developers Knight Dragon. In 2021, they opened Design District, London’s first permanent, purpose-built hub for the creative industries, designed to tackle a problem many creatives in the capital face. Its blended rent model allows independents to grow organically, from hot desks to studios, floors and entire offices – so they can stay and aren’t forced to leave as they scale. 

Knight Dragon’s investment in culture-as-community has continued to build, with Ravensbourne University, Firepit community gallery and studio space, food and music festivals, and a riverside art trail including more Damien Hirst works installed en plein air than anywhere else in the world. In 2025, the Peninsula also marked 25 years of its most famous neighbour the O2 (formerly known as the Millennium Dome), a reminder that culture has been shaping this stretch of the Thames for decades.

Against that backdrop, Troubadour choosing Greenwich Peninsula is an obvious choice. For the place, it reinforces an identity rooted in making, performance and participation rather than consumption. For business, it strengthens an existing ecosystem, adding another reason to spend time, invest and return.

This local picture mirrors a wider shift. The UK government has set out its goal to almost double business investment into the creative industries by 2030, positioning culture as a core growth sector. In London, the Mayor has consistently backed that direction with major funding for cultural infrastructure.

Also opening late this year, East Bank alone represents one of the largest single investments in culture ever made by City Hall, with more than £600 million committed to the project to date. The Mayor has also backed the new London Museum Smithfield with a £95 million contribution.

These investments are not driven solely by ticket sales or short-term economic uplift. Culture tells stories, and stories sell places – places that are worth investing in.

A venue launch or good old festival is music to a PR’s ears: perfect campaign material. But real return is not unlocked by campaigns alone. Headlines matter, but they are fleeting. The places that endure are those grounded in lived reality: reality builds legitimacy, national commentators respond to proof, and international authority comes from substance, not hype.

Across London, some of the most successful places are shaped by elements that don’t make money in and of themselves. Think of the fountains at Granary Square or the ‘Disappearing Rooms’ water installation at Southbank Centre: free to use, impossible to monetise directly – so where’s the return?

You can see it as soon as the London sun is warm enough, in the throngs of people flocking to these spaces. In the memories made in kids’ minds of dashing through the water, to return as a nostalgic adult, invested in the place through joyful, “IRL” experiences.

That kind of investment only works with patient capital: capital that understands the value of public space, culture and non-market-facing elements, even when returns are indirect or long term. In today’s climate, that patience is becoming harder to come by. As capital tightens, developers are increasingly forced to squeeze those elements that make places distinctive, loved and ultimately successful.

That’s why these local, real-world narratives should not be treated as secondary communications channels but the foundations on which strategies are built.

Give people a space they will use, love, talk about and choose to invest their time and money in over years, not months, and this is where long-term return on investment starts to materialise, for developers, institutions and public funders alike, and where political mandates begin to make themselves felt on the ground.

“Build it and they will come” has never rung true for me. Build it, get the neighbours round, let the neighbours tell the story, turn that story into a headline – and then they will come.