Downtown San Diego is at a crossroads. “The city has a golden opportunity to answer a really important question, which really is the question that every major city in America is wrestling
with: What is a downtown for in this post-Covid, remote work era?” says Grant Oliphant, CEO of The Conrad Prebys Foundation. “Downtowns are hugely important to how entire regions are perceived. And because of their role as a hub for a cultural life, they can be a real center of creativity and dynamism.”
That golden opportunity took root in 2022, when Mayor Todd Gloria proposed the Civic Center Revitalization effort. The idea was to lease or sell the downtown Civic Center’s city-owned buildings to a developer and use the money to fund a new City Hall, while adding housing and potentially businesses and public space to the area.
Photo Credit: Alexander Pai The Civic Center Revitalization effort could make downtown more vibrant, walkable, and livable—or it could create “dead” blocks full of traffic, not pedestrians.
No developers were interested. So, a few big players— the Downtown San Diego Partnership and the urban planning firm U3 Advisors—got together to draw up a blueprint for what the space could become. Oliphant’s charitable organization, the Prebys Foundation, is contributing $300,000 to the visioning work. The nonprofit got involved to preserve the San Diego Civic Theatre and “explore how the city could integrate culture in a reimagining of downtown,” Oliphant says.
For Oliphant, that starts with a Civic Center that doesn’t stop you in your tracks—because in its current iteration, the center is a physical blockade in downtown, completely separating the east and west sides. “It’s an extraordinarily bad experience,” Oliphant says. “And it, in many ways, communicates all the wrong messages about what an incredible place San Diego is.”
Photo Credit: Alexander Pai
The Civic Center covers four blocks between A Street and C Street and First Avenue and Third Avenue, including buildings such as City Hall, an office tower, Golden Hall, and the Civic Theatre. The layout and many of the buildings were designed in the 1960s—a time when cars were king, prioritized above everything, including pedestrians, says Megan Groth, an urbanist, architect, and author of the local guidebook Places We Love: San Diego Tijuana.
The center’s layout reflects this vehicle-centric mindset. “One of the most architecturally striking buildings at the Civic Center is the parking garage, designed by Hal Sadler,” Groth explains. “And the original design had B Street running through the site,” though it was later closed off.
Now, almost everyone agrees Civic Center needs a makeover—yet opinions differ on what it should look like.
And it’s possible the area won’t get a facelift anytime soon. After Measure E, which would have increased sales taxes in San Diego, failed in November 2024, Gloria announced that the revitalization of Civic Center is on hold—despite the fact that the city is contributing very little in funding.
Mixed-Use Spaces
The major players leading the Civic Center Revitalization effort say they aren’t yet ready to share the grand concept that could shape the future of downtown. They have a wishlist, though.
An original visioning document for the Civic Center Redevelopment, authored by a panel of community leaders and architects in 2022, calls for a mixed-use area that “serve[s] the needs of residents, workers, and visitors to ensure the area is active and vibrant. The space should be holistic and cohesive with streets, landscaping, amenities, office space, and residential mixed into a pleasing multi-purpose urban core.”
Groth believes that initial vision “is a thoughtful, well-informed, and achievable overview of what our Civic Center can and should be in the future. The key now is for the city to design the process to achieve these goals,” she says. It is absolutely within reach, and there are countless examples from other cities that we can draw on—not to mention people within our city who can help get this done in the equitable and collaborative way that this visioning document demands.”
With the Civic Theatre onsite and the newly rehabilitated venue for the San Diego Symphony nearby, the area already has anchors for arts and culture, and Nathan Bishop, senior director of economic development at the Downtown San Diego Partnership, wants to add housing, retail, and an outdoor space that would be inviting to the public.
“I think that we will continue to see … more of a tilt toward experiential activities [that encourage tourism],” he says.
A Greener Downtown
Some of those “experiential” spaces should be parks and outdoor activities, Bishop continues. “We have this amazing weather,” he adds. “We should have more activated rooftops than anywhere else in the country. We should have great park spaces, a lot of places … to [enjoy] that indoor-outdoor nature that really sets us apart.”
Rob Quigley, a 40-year downtown resident and longtime San Diego architect who designed the Central Library, isn’t involved with the Civic Center Revitalization project, but his dreams for downtown also include more nature. He is working with the group San Diego Commons on “Green the Gap,” an initiative that would better connect Balboa Park with the urban center to give downtown “a huge and contiguous green space,” he says.
Beyond that, he argues, there should be parks and other greenery sprinkled throughout downtown. He recently visited London, and as he strolled through the city, he was struck by the way its layout prioritizes green space.
“It just makes living there delightful, even though it’s this massive, dense city,” he says. “If I was a dictator for downtown, I would mandate that every two blocks, there has to be some green space.”
More Infrastructure and Offices
And, given his way, Quigley would ensure that there were plenty of office workers around to enjoy all those parks.
“You’ve got to have places to work downtown, or else downtown becomes a bedroom community for people that work elsewhere,” he says. “That’s the opposite of what a vibrant downtown is. It’s an issue and a problem that’s going to grow in magnitude.” As of August 2024, downtown’s office vacancy rate was at a historic high of just over 25 percent, according to a report from CoStar.
Those who do live in the area need more public infrastructure, like parks, schools, and transportation to connect downtown with other parts of the city, Groth adds. “We focus so much on units of housing that we have neglected the quality of the public realm and all the other things that support housing,” she says.
Say No to Superblocks
Quigley also believes that a successful downtown requires a diverse array of small businesses, creating a pedestrian experience like those tourists eagerly flock to in Little Italy and the Gaslamp. However, “what’s happening all over downtown is that developers consolidate all those small lots into a full city block and develop one mega project called a superblock,” he says. “So, instead of having the fine grain of multiple buildings on a block, like in the Gaslamp, you end up with these giant block-by-block projects.”
He would like the city to institute a zoning rule that requires at least four development entities on any city block.
Because of the city’s effort to enlist one developer to conceptualize the entire space, Quigley worries that the Civic Center redesign set off on the wrong foot. “You want to hire professionals that understand civic architecture and public planning and not developers,” he says. “Developers don’t get that and are not interested in maximizing the public good—they’re interested in maximizing profit.”
Instead, he advocates for a public process. When he was working on plans for the Central Library, for example, he hosted a series of workshops to gather input.
“Developers don’t work like that,” he says. “It’s not in their DNA.”
However, because the effort to sell to a developer failed, Oliphant says it’s now “wide open” how the space could be divided. “You could imagine a single developer taking it on, but more likely, it would be a series of developers interested in various aspects,” he adds.
And Bishop asserts that the U3 consultants running the visioning process are well-versed in public-private partnerships. They know how to bring the two sectors together and “make them thrive,” he says.
Photo Credit: Peter Contreras
A Better Vision
Creating a successful Civic Center—and, beyond that, a downtown that people want to spend time in—doesn’t just happen by accident, Groth says. She points out almost every other major city has a design commission of some kind that helps intentionally plan and envision urban spaces that are functional and appealing.
Groth believes San Diego needs such a commission, one that would review projects not just on the design of the building, but “actually how it fits within the streetscape and how it would relate to other buildings and the whole urban environment. Right now, our development approach to housing is to make it as easy for developers as possible, which on one hand produces housing, but doesn’t necessarily produce the housing we want or need,” she says. “We are outsourcing the design of our city to private entities, basically. And we can do something about that. We are just choosing, as a city, not to.”
Meanwhile, the Civic Center Revitalization is currently on ice, waiting for the city’s budget to recover.
“Once the city is back in a position where it can get moving again and feels comfortable focusing on this again, we would then get into the process of really designing actual projects and re-engaging the public around that,” Oliphant says.
Groth hopes that eventual progress is in service to the community as a whole. “Our city government prefers handing over large amounts of land to one master developer without any public value strings attached,” she adds. “It is a faster, cleaner transaction and doesn’t require the city to have any in-house development experts to manage the project. But this is an opportunity to do something different, if we are able to think differently.”
Claire Trageser has been writing for San Diego Magazine for 10 years. She also is a reporter at KPBS and writes for The New York Times, National Geographic, Marie Claire, Elle and Runner's World.
Sandwiched between Petco Park and Balboa Park, East Village is the largest downtown neighborhood in San Diego at a staggering 130 blocks. This once-ignored warehouse district is now home to boundless urban attractions, locally owned shops, and dynamic eats.
Here is everything to check out while exploring this cultural hub:
Sip, devour, or savor next to the most unexpected collab of the century: Ronald Mcdonald and a fire-breathing dragon holding a sign declaring, “No breakfast tacos.” Don’t be frightened by the jarring décor featuring a golden disco ball, beachy vintage touches, and lots of dinosaurs—the menu of coffee, cocktails, and brunch bites will make you grateful you stepped foot into a mini Jurassic World.
631 9th Avenue
Bay City Brewing
Downtown offers a seemingly endless lineup of rooftop bars and restaurants all competing for who is the best. Bay City Brewing throws its hat in the ring with crazy happy hour specials: 50 percent off drinks Monday through Thursday from 3 to 5 p.m. and 50 percent off your entire tab Friday from 3 to 5 p.m. Why choose between pulled pork sliders, baked wings, or poblano mac n’ cheese when you could order all three without breaking the bank?
627 8th Avenue
Cowboy Star
Ready to question every vegetarian’s life choices? Head to Cowboy Star, where the open kitchen allows patrons to peek in on the chefs as they slice filet mignon, wood-fire elk, sear scallops, and drizzle on classic steakhouse sauces like bernaise and creamy horseradish.
640 10th Avenue
Lola 55
Dine at Lola 55 for a more casual Mexican vibe and cheap eats with loads of flavor. Tacos are the star of the show here, from crispy fried fish and mole chicken to pork belly al pastor and tender carnitas.
1290 F Street
The Mission
The Mission ramps up its simple and hearty bistro dishes with artful plating. Head in for breakfast or lunch plates like lemon curd pancakes, sweet corn tamales, and tortilla soup, plus entire menus dedicated to vegan and gluten-free eaters.
1250 J Street
Monzù Fresh Pasta
Dreaming of traveling to Italy to eat fresh pasta for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert? If a European escape isn’t in the cards in the near future, jet to Monzù instead, where husband-wife team Aldo de Dominicis Rotondi and Serena Romano bring Italy to the East Village with time-tested recipes for handmade pasta.
455 10th Avenue
Sovereign Modern Thai Cuisine
Landing a spot on the Michelin Guide three years running, as well as a visit from Food Network’s Diners, Drive-ins & Dives, Sovereign is serving up some of the best Thai food in San Diego. The restaurant incorporates techniques from Laos and Cambodia to create dishes like spicy fermented pork sausage, coconut curry noodles, and crispy duck confit.
1460 J Street
Cafe de L’Opera
Legend says you can smell this French bakery’s baked goods throughout the East Village. Set your alarm and roll up at opening time (7 a.m.) to get your hands on croissants and pastries fresh from the oven. The cafe also serves breakfast and lunch staples like sandwiches and quiche.
910 J Street
Storyhouse Spirits
Storyhouse Spirits and I have one thing in common: the love of gabbing with friends, preferably with a delicious, fruity cocktail in hand. You’ll find small-batch spirits distilled in-house here, which enliven mixes like the Murder on the Dancefloor, made with beet-infused gin and pineapple run. Storyhouse offers food for humans and pets, too.
1220 J Street
Basic Bar & Pizza
Housed in a converted 1912 warehouse, Basic Bar & Pizza holds court as one of the only late-night eateries in downtown. By day, this restaurant serves pizza for visitors of all ages. As soon as the sun sets, it oversees a booming nightlife scene with art shows, private events, and some of San Diego’s hottest DJs.
410 10th Avenue
Things to Do in East Village San Diego
Petco Park
The arrival of Petco Park in 2004 revolutionized the East Village, drawing the Padres, their fans, and many of the businesses that now serve them to the area. The venue (which also hosts concerts and other events) has one of the best stadium food situations in the country, with Puesto, Din Tai Fung, Grand Ole BBQ, and Hodad’s all slinging snacks here.
100 Park Boulevard
Quartyard
The people behind Quartyard decided to counter downtown’s dearth of backyards by building one for all of San Diego. This event venue and urban park constructed from repurposed shipping containers holds cultural events, outdoor concerts, street markets, and community activities.
1301 Market Street
East Village Tavern + Bowl
Since the dawn of time, families, friends, lovers, and enemies have been brought together (or torn apart) by rolling a ball to try and knock over various objects—a sport otherwise known as bowling. This modernized 12-lane alley is a hot spot where San Diegans come to bowl, eat, drink, and watch sports any day of the week.
930 Market Street
Pinch
Get up close and personal with some wet clay to create a unique earthen cup that is sure to get visitors asking “Where did you get this?” the second you serve them a drink in it. Pinch’s intimate ceramics classes, taught by one of four instructors, are designed to allow you to move at your own pace.
937 E Street
Fault Line Park
This fun-sized park in the East Village features a kids’ playground and a few rounded sculptures that look like the love children of the spheres outside Target and The Bean in Chicago’s Millennium Park. Relax in the succulent garden here or walk along the paths that follow the curve of the Rose Canyon Fault system.
1433 Island Avenue
San Diego Central Library
The San Diego Central Library houses a 2.6-million-piece collection of books, films, magazines, baseball cards, and other items over nine stories. The massive, domed building that serves as the main branch of the San Diego public library system is perfect for studying, browsing, and quietly hanging out.
Tucked inside the San Diego Central Library, this boutique shopping hub vends trinkets, doohickeys, and gifts galore. The best part of it all? You won’t feel an ounce of guilt for balling out on candles, pins, stickers, soaps, and, of course, books, because every penny goes right back towards the San Diego Library Foundation.
330 Park Boulevard
Wotown Vintage
Skater boys and street-style lovers, this place is for you. Casual, masculine vintage clothes fill the walls at this small shop, making it the perfect place for those looking for edgier and oversized pieces to enhance any wardrobe.
730 Market Street
Wild Dove Boutique
Adjacent to Wotown sits a more modern and feminine clothing store, specializing in day-to-night pieces you can rock at your 9-to-5 or out on the town. Stop here to shop floaty dresses, cozy sweaters, office-ready blazers, and laidback jeans at mid-range prices.
740 Market Street
Normal Records
This hole-in-the-wall record shop has jam-packed thousands of records into a closet-sized space, making each visit a treasure hunt for vinyl in a wide range of genres, including hip-hop, rock, electronic, metal, country, soul, and blues.
Maren Hawkins is a freelance writer in her last year at San Diego State University. When she is not writing, she spends her time playing beach volleyball, thrifting for the cutest clothes, and traveling whenever possible.
Location: Downtown looking north at Petco Park from the Harbor Drive Pedestrian Bridge
Camera: Nikon D600, shot at focal length 14 with a 14mm wide-angle lens
Evgeny Yorobe, a healthcare IT professional and fine art/wedding photographer from Tierrasanta, was drawn to the movement, lines, and lights of this downtown scene. “I knew I wanted the bridge and Petco Park in a photograph, and all the movement and activity around the bridge made me decide on a nighttime long-exposure shot,” says Yorobe, a devoted Padres fan. The time of the day mandated a tripod, but he realized that a wall blocked the composition. In a pinch, Yorobe shortened the length of one tripod leg to lean it and the camera to the very edge. The result was a view of the city’s after-hours buzz—traffic, twinkling lamps, and light trails from the planes, trains, and automobiles.
Looking north at Petco Park from the Harbor Drive Pedestrian Bridge
San Diego summers can be brutal. But since the hottest period is typically late summer into early fall, San Diegans still have time to prepare. The pros at Mauzy Cooling, Heating, Plumbing, and Electrical are standing by to help homeowners fortify their homes against the elements and ensure their air conditioning is as frosty as the penguins that serve as the company’s mascots.
Many homeowners underestimate the load their AC system faces, especially in the inland valleys where temperatures regularly top 100 degrees. San Diego regularly sees multi-day heatwaves each summer, and a system that struggles on the first day will likely fail by the third.Longer run times, unusual sounds or smells, and uneven cooling from room to room are all signs that your system may not survive the next hot spell.
Systems typically last 12 to 17 years, but there are exceptions. If a system is approaching that, or is already there, a professional evaluation is recommended before summer really heats up. A good rule of thumb: If you can’t remember when your system was last serviced, it’s due.
“As technology changes, systems become smarter and smarter,” says Sean O’Connor, an install manager at Mauzy with 42 years of experience. “There are a lot of people out there who will say a system’s only good for 10 years. I don’t buy that—these systems are built to last as long as they’re taken care of.”
There are also a few steps homeowners can take between services to extend the life of their system. Regularly changing a dirty filter—especially if you have kids or pets—and keeping an outdoor unit clean can help head off problems in the future, says O’Connor.
Also, be realistic about whether it’s time to replace a unit. O’Connor likens pouring money into salvaging a faulty unit with patchwork repairs and replacement parts to “tripping over a dollar to pick up a dime.” When one part fails, others are sure to follow, and newer parts may not be compatible with older units. Mauzy recommends homeowners use the 50% rule: If a repair costs more than 50% of the system’s replacement value, and the equipment is over 10 years old, replacement is usually the better long-term value. And don’t forget the ducting. An older house that was built with heat and later had air conditioning added may not have sufficient airflow, regardless of how good the system is.
Last but not least, homeowners should know who to trust when it comes to their homes. Built on three generations of professional integrity, Mauzy has grown into not just a leader for cooling, heating, plumbing, and electrical services, but a leader in the community known for supporting local nonprofits across an array of causes. To ensure complete peace of mind, Mauzy stands behind a comprehensive 12-point guarantee that outlines its commitment to outstanding service, quality equipment, expert technicians who understand how the local microclimates affect HVAC performance, and no upsells or surprises on the bill.
“We go the extra mile. That’s what sets us apart,” O’Connor says. To get a free quote today, visit mauzy.com.
Location: Downtown looking north at Petco Park from the Harbor Drive Pedestrian Bridge
Camera: Nikon D600, shot at focal length 14 with a 14mm wide-angle lens
Evgeny Yorobe, a healthcare IT professional and fine art/wedding photographer from Tierrasanta, was drawn to the movement, lines, and lights of this downtown scene. “I knew I wanted the bridge and Petco Park in a photograph, and all the movement and activity around the bridge made me decide on a nighttime long-exposure shot,” says Yorobe, a devoted Padres fan. The time of the day mandated a tripod, but he realized that a wall blocked the composition. In a pinch, Yorobe shortened the length of one tripod leg to lean it and the camera to the very edge. The result was a view of the city’s after-hours buzz—traffic, twinkling lamps, and light trails from the planes, trains, and automobiles.
Looking north at Petco Park from the Harbor Drive Pedestrian Bridge
Edna Harper asked for one thing before she died: that the next owner of her iconic Mission Hills home keep the street-facing “garden.” Which is essentially asking the future residents to be curators of a whimsical and obsessive, delightful and strange, classic, cartoony and slightly unhinged sculpture museum. Harper, who died in January at the age of 87, poured her heart into this topiary bonanza, and it’s right there for everyone to see.
Like thousands (or millions, there’s no formal estimation) of others, I had scrolled through the photos of this topiary fantasia before I ever stood in front of it. As of this writing, Harper’s Topiary Garden is No. 227 of 2,686 Things to Do in San Diego on Tripadvisor, making it a popular tourist stop between fish tacos, a day at the beach, and a stroll in nearby Presidio Park. But crowdsourced photos quickly snapped in direct overhead sunlight tend to flatten the shapes that, while meticulously manicured, refuse to behave. In person, Harper’s figures seem to be in motion and, given that they’re sculpted out of bushes, they literally are. (I’d love to see a maintenance timelapse.)
Animals emerge out of shrubs as if they have impish ideas. A fanciful whale, a man in a sombrero, a random spiral twisting skyward, otherworldly creatures that defy categorization—all of these exist together in a neatly trimmed cascade pouring down the steep front slope of the property.
You don’t accidentally end up with a yard like this. You decide to create it and choose to cultivate it, and then you keep deciding and cultivating—for decades.
Although a consistent parade of looky-loos have visited over the years, most have never been inside the home, which is on the market for the first time since Harper and her husband, Alex (who died in 2020), bought it in 1969.
Courtesy of Christopher Delgado
“It was and is a landmark,” says Christopher Delgado, Harper’s cousin and trustee of her estate. “She specialized in Chinese brush art and Japanese art called ‘sumi-e,’ a form of Zen art. She was a creator … she was very, very talented.”
I can’t stop thinking about Harper, sitting at the kitchen window, looking down at her masterpiece and the watchers watching it. The image of Harper enjoying the joy the public took from her handiwork makes me want to understand the woman behind the work. Because topiary, as an art form, has always been a little… loaded.
Topiary has always had a bit of an identity crisis—and that’s part of its charm.
When I think of topiary, I immediately think: Fancy. French bourgeoisie. Palace of Versailles. Mais non! Topiary has its origins in Rome. According to the Center forArchitecture, the word “topiary” has its origins in late 16th century English, which combines the Greek word “topos” for place and the Latin word “topiarius” for ornamental gardner.
Photo Credit: Casiel Sanchez
Topiary started as a flex, really. A Julius-Caesar-adjacent pastime for the most ancient one-percenters; an expression accessible only to those with land, labor (or, put more plainly, enslaved people), and spare time. In its earliest form, topiary was about control: bending nature into submission. It’s where symmetry and precision signaled order, taste, and money.
But with the collapse of the Roman Empire and the Dark Ages that followed, the topiary almost preceded the Dodo Bird in extinction. Monks quietly kept the art alive by growing herbs and manicuring the gardens and hedges within the courtyards of their monasteries.
It wasn’t until the Renaissance nine centuries later when topiary saw a resurgence—ah, Versailles!—and this form of pleasure gardening went into overdrive. Nature became architecture. The French pruned their foliage into iconic cones and obelisks, walls to keep out the riffraff, and ornamentation designed to impress. The Dutch got a little freaky, as they do, and sculpted complicated figures, animals, and even furniture.
Inevitably, the pendulum swung again, and topiary fell out of favor once it became viewed as excessive and even absurd. Even so, it never really disappeared. It just migrated to exist in a completely different paradigm. It was less Versailles and more, “What if this bush were a mouse?”
Fast forward to Disneyland in 1963. That year, the park opened a topiary garden in Fantasyland with verdant sculptures of giraffes, camels, elephants, and hippos all inspired by Denmark’s Tivoli Gardens.
Disney’s interpretation of topiary—which is still a fixture of park decor today—falls more into the realm of imagination and possibility than restrained aristocratic performance.
That’s one of the stranger throughlines of topiary: It moves from elite to everyday, from stiff and formal to playful and silly, from symbol of control to something steeped in personal expression.
Which is what makes a place like Harper’s Topiary Garden so compelling and the woman behind it utterly intriguing.
Courtesy of Christopher Delgado
Born in 1938, Edna Harper was something of a Renaissance woman. She worked for two decades as a dental assistant, and she later became a notable painter, calligrapher, and stained glass artist (the house itself is adorned with her work). But she was also savvy in other ways.
“She graduated [with a degree in dental assisting] from San Diego City College and wanted to have her own money and her independence,” says Delgado. “Most people didn’t know that she was such a great businessperson, and for many years, she managed all of [the couple’s] properties on her own. She was great at building relationships … she touched a lot of people’s lives.”
Her friend and fellow artist Julie Roth attributes her artistry to her relationship with Harper. The pair met two decades ago at an art class at Oasis in Mission Valley.
“She was just the most encouraging person,” Roth says. “I didn’t know I could paint, but apparently I can. She was a tremendous person.”
I asked Roth what she’d want people to know about her friend.
“Her empathy and diplomacy,” she says. “[She had] a sharp eye for other talent. She spotted me, but I’m not the only one she encouraged.”
That sharp eye suggests attention, the same kind it takes to look at a bush and also see a whale. Or a spiral. Or something that doesn’t exist yet, but could.
Photo Credit: Casiel Sanchez
Nothing about Harper’s life suggests someone chasing attention. And yet, she ended up creating something that demanded hers, and she took great pleasure in seeing people enjoy her creations.
The garden didn’t happen all at once. It grew out of years of travel, observation, and collaboration. Harper often traveled without her husband, always returning from trips to Japan, Thailand, and other parts of Asia with ideas and impressions captured through sketches in a notebook.
“She would get creative ideas from her travels … she’d come back with ideas and pictures, and they’d go about cutting that topiary bush into shape,” Delgado says.
For the past 25 years, she had the help of her gardener, Pedro Duran—who’s still employed by the trust and has maintained the garden since Harper’s passing.
In the early topiary years, Harper worked closely with Duran in what Delgado describes as a kind of shared “labor of love.” She would share her sketches and together the pair would shape the bushes into something deliberate.
Photo Credit: Casiel Sanchez
“As she got older, she would increasingly draw her ideas and [Duran] would [carry them out],” Delgado says.
That collaboration reinforces that her garden was not an act of control, but one of creative collaboration and translation. From memory to sketch. From sketch to shrub. From something seen, somewhere else in the world, to something rooted in the soil of a steep hillside in Mission Hills.
Harper also made sure that the lawn’s boisterous energy made its way into the house on Union Street. Apparently, she threw legendary parties.
“Fairly regularly, in the late ’70s and ’80s, she would host Super Bowl parties with 200 people. She had TVs everywhere,” Delgado says.
It’s not hard to square that image with the stillness of the garden which, despite the careful pruning and intentional design, is voluminous and nearly vibrating.
And, damnit, I wish I’d watched some sportsball on her shocking number of TVs and wandered out front to the topiary—slightly wine-drunk with an orange smear of wing sauce on the corner of my mouth—to marvel at the leafy hippo and this woman’s elaborately creative life.
Photo Credit: Casiel Sanchez
I can hear Delgado smiling as we talk on the phone. He’s going back to his childhood, when he talks about being one of the cousins Harper doted on when he visited.
“The adults were inside, and we’d be out in the camper,” he says, “and [Harper] would come check on us, make sure we were okay. She always had gifts for us. If it was Easter, there were chocolate eggs. If it was Christmas, stockings. We were the beneficiaries of them not having kids because they showered us with all their love.”
Knowing this and taking a look at her garden again, you can see it’s not the work of a shut-away curmudgeon. It’s wondrous, inviting, and the right kind of weird.
“Ultimately, she did it for herself and family, first and foremost,” Delgado says of Harper’s Topiary Garden.
Harper’s one request of whomever buys her home may seem like a focus on basic maintenance, about hedges and upkeep and preserving something visually striking. But it’s really about attention. And maybe, too, about legacy. Not hers, per se, but the legacy of community, relationships, art, creativity, possibility, adventure, culture, dedication, and love.
For now, it’s there for anyone to see, and its future is in the hands of whomever comes next.
Daniel A. Kaplan is a founding partner of Panakos LLP with more than three decades of civil litigation experience in both state and federal courts. Mr. Kaplan pursues and defends legal claims on behalf of companies, entrepreneurs, and business owners in high-stakes disputes. He focuses on business disputes including breach of contract, unfair competition, trade secret theft, securities disputes, fraud/misrepresentations, and employment matters.
“The best advocacy combines preparation, perspective, and a client relationship built on trust and candor.” — Daniel A. Kaplan
His clients include real estate investors, private and public corporations, and individuals seeking sophisticated legal counsel. Known for practical judgment and strategic advocacy, he works closely with an experienced and diverse legal team to protect, enforce, and defend his clients’ interests.
555 W. Beech Street, Ste. 500, San Diego, California 92101 619-8000-LAW Panakos.law
