A fight with a union blew up Steph Curry’s HQ project. Inside the race to save it

The news that Stephen Curry wanted to pursue his post-NBA career in San Francisco rather than hightailing it to New York or Los Angeles was a much-needed win in a city struggling to find its groove again. 

So it came as an unpleasant shock when, in a terse email to the media with the subject line “Urgent – Thirty Ink HQ Canceled,” his company said its plan to develop a mixed-use building in the Dogpatch was off. The reason? According to the Warriors superstar’s camp, the Local 22 chapter of the Nor Cal Carpenters Union had “destroyed” the project by insisting it employ a fully unionized workforce.

Amid the public relations battle, a group of local leaders less concerned about who’s to blame has been desperately racing to salvage the deal.

The Standard spoke to a dozen sources within the realms of real estate, politics, and labor to understand how the situation escalated so intensely.

A coalition of city leaders has hastily assembled to try to put the deal back together. Among them are Mayor Daniel Lurie; Enrique Landa of Associate Capital, which is redeveloping the nearby Potrero Power Station; the Warriors; and Theo Ellington, a former city commissioner who has served as the team’s public affairs director. 

While it may have appeared sudden, the decision didn’t come out of the blue. Rather, it was a breaking point after months of talks between a group working for the first time within the city machine and a labor power player. 

“The rejection of [Thirty Ink’s] offer has not only led to the loss of a high-profile project but also perpetuates the perception that San Francisco is inhospitable to business investment,” Adam Gould of the Dogpatch Business Association wrote in a desperate plea to Lurie after the development was called off. 

The announcement in March that Thirty Ink was poised to break ground came less than a month after the city hosted NBA All-Star weekend. 

Curry oversees eight companies and 13 entities, spanning media production, nonprofits, tech investment, real estate, fashion, and a whiskey brand. His vision was to bring all these businesses together under one roof, on a parcel of land at 600 20th St. that he purchased last year for $8.5 million. 

His umbrella company, Thirty Ink, which intended to privately finance the project, received permission to demolish a vacant two-story concrete structure on the site and build a five-story building with office, lab, and art spaces. The ground floor would host a rotating exhibit open to the public, while the rooftop deck and residential unit upstairs would be used for parties and guests. 

Businesses and residents embraced their hometown hero’s commitment to the Dogpatch and hailed it as yet another sign of revitalization for the changing neighborhood. 

Then, on April 3, Curry’s camp hit the eject button. 

In the email, Thirty Ink stated that it had no obligation to utilize union labor but was doing so out of generosity. It accused Local 22 of turning down a deal that would have utilized a 40% union workforce, making it “untenable” to build the project in San Francisco. 

Negotiations between Thirty Ink and the carpenters had been underway for months and included counsel from the Warriors’ public policy office, a team source confirmed. 

But in the thick of the last round of bargaining, in March, just prior to Thirty Ink’s shock announcement, a handful of carpenters union members began demonstrating in front of the company’s SoMa office and created a leaflet critical of Curry and the development.

Those combative tactics angered Thirty Ink’s negotiators, including the company’s secretary-chairman Suresh Singh and COO Tiffany Williams, who expressed concern about security at the office, citing Curry’s popularity and the predominantly female staff. Additionally, the company’s representatives saw the display of public pressure as disproportionate to the project’s size, according to those familiar with the talks. 

In its statement canceling the project, Thirty Ink called out one individual by name: Jacob Adiarte, director of organizing for the carpenters union. According to sources, Adiarte oversaw the pressure campaign. 

A spokesperson for Local 22 declined to make Adiarte available for an interview. The 40-year-old director has a reputation as a political attack dog, although other sources used more colorful language to describe him. 

“He does not fuck around,” said a political consultant who asked to remain anonymous to preserve relationships. “He’s made things tough for us, but you have to respect that he gets results.” 

At the center of the union’s dispute with Thirty Ink was its selection of Achill Beg Construction as general contractor. The union has sparred with the local company over its alleged resistance to using a fully unionized workforce of subcontractors. 

Privately funded office projects in San Francisco typically don’t require union labor unless they are the beneficiary of public subsidies. James Gallagher, CEO of Achill Beg Construction, did not respond to requests for comment.

Discussions between the union and Thirty Ink kicked off last summer, according to a source, shortly after a Curry-affiliated company closed on the purchase of the property in May. 

For larger projects, labor groups normally insert themselves during the planning application phase. The pitch to developers typically emphasizes unions’ superior ability to recruit workers and higher levels of training.

In cases where a developer has chosen to forge ahead with nonunion labor, the carpenters union has been known to show up to hearings, file environmental lawsuits, or organize public demonstrations to make it politically difficult for construction to continue.

Observers describe the carpenters union’s MO as an all-or-nothing approach, with tactics such as picketing around a 12-foot-tall inflatable grim reaper. This attitude has won the union jobs but earned the ire of other labor groups; most notably, the Building and Construction Trades Council, which split with the carpenters in 2023 over disagreements about housing construction bills in Sacramento. 

Since Thirty Ink’s project was relatively small — 25,000 square feet — and code compliant, it breezed through most entitlement steps with little friction. Prior to Curry acquiring the site, another local developer had pushed it through approvals with the architecture firm Workshop 1. Thirty Ink retained the firm when it purchased the site.

Since the public rupture, Curry’s camp has maintained a hard stance. The typically rigid carpenters, however, have left an opening for negotiations. 

“We look forward to the opportunity to work with Mr. Curry and Thirty Ink to ensure they retain contractors that respect labor standards in San Francisco and throughout Northern California, and union labor is used in the construction of any of their projects that benefit workers and the entire community,” Jay Bradshaw, executive secretary-treasurer for the carpenters, said in a statement last week. 

Text messages and calls went out in a flurry in the immediate aftermath of Thirty Ink’s announcement. One major player was Lurie, who made personal calls to Thirty Ink leaders and other stakeholders.

Among the strategies being discussed are finding a new general contractor, donating labor, or starting a partnership to relaunch the project and alleviate Thirty Ink’s cost burden. 

Landa, whose Potrero Power Station redevelopment has been one of the few major projects to push through the city’s recent construction slowdown, has been functioning as a go-between. 

“Listen, I’m a big supporter of Dogpatch, and this is a neighborhood where things happen,” Landa said. “I hope it gets figured out.” 

Doing so means bringing both the carpenters union and the Building and Construction Trades Council — bitter rivals in the labor community — to the table for a potential compromise. 

“Things clearly got off to a rocky start,” said Rudy Gonzalez, secretary treasurer of the council. “Shit happens. I believe in Mayor Lurie’s vision for reinvigorating San Francisco and making our city shovel-ready for smart development.” 

Landa has been in conversation with Lurie, who stepped in after Gould of the Dogpatch Business Association made a plea for him to intervene. 

“While the DBA respects and values the contributions of union labor, we believe that the rigid stance taken in this instance has been counterproductive,” Gould wrote in his email to the mayor’s office. 

On the other hand, observers say Thirty Ink’s decision to take its ball home in such a brusque public manner, while naming Adiarte explicitly, was an unusually incendiary tactic and showed inexperience navigating San Francisco’s choppy political waters. 

Midnight Dawn, a New York-based public relations company that represents Thirty Ink, declined to comment. 

But sources believe the experienced carpenters union also misplayed its hand, leaving it pitted against the region’s most beloved sports figure in an economic environment unfriendly to development. 

Ellington said he sees merits to both sides’ positions, having served as commissioner of the Office of Community Investment and Infrastructure and director of public affairs for the Warriors during the development of the Chase Center, which utilized union labor. 

“Negotiating parcel by parcel is not an efficient way to do things,” Ellington said. “There are so many developments in the southeast side where the union’s priorities and neighborhood development can coexist.”

The carpenters, whose offices are less than three blocks from Thirty Ink’s proposed development, are building a new union hall at 3433 3rd St.

Supervisor Shamann Walton, who represents the Dogpatch, called the neighborhood a “perfect fit” for Curry’s development. “I am going to do everything I can as the supervisor to make this a slam dunk, no pun intended,” he said. 

Charles Lutvak, a spokesperson for the mayor’s office, declined to elaborate on Lurie’s calls with Thirty Ink and others. “Mayor Lurie will work with anyone who shares his commitment to San Francisco’s comeback,” he said. 

As the Warriors wrap up their season with hopes that the team — and Curry himself — are heating up at just the right time, the growing army across sports, real estate, business, and labor have a different objective: turning the temperature down and keeping the Bay Area legend and his business rooted in San Francisco.

Whether the city can get out of its own way remains a question.