My six-year-old is not a big fan of the arts. He doesn’t like singing or dancing. When I ask him to make a craft project with me, he gets stressed that he’s not doing it right. If I offer to take him to a museum, he says, skeptically, “Is it a museum where you do things or just look at things?”
But I’m going to keep trying—because children should be encouraged to interact with art, says Nina Garin, associate director of marketing at The Old Globe.
“Exposing kids to the arts just makes them better citizens of the world,” she explains. “Their point-of-view is expanded, they learn about people different from them, they learn empathy and acceptance, [and] they learn about beauty and hope.”
Luckily, San Diego has a thriving arts scene packed with family-friendly activities, including touchable sculptures, kid-approved studios, and silly stage productions. To help you and your little ones make the most of it, we asked some experts where to go, what to do, and how to encourage your kids to be more interested in art. Here’s their advice.
At What Age to Start
According to Garin, children are never too young to begin exploring the arts.
“If you’re reading your baby a bedtime story, that’s exposing them to fiction and storytelling,” she says. “Drawing pictures in preschool is exposure to visual art. It’s when their lives become busy with school and sports that the arts start fading. The challenge is to keep arts in that rotation, which can be done with dance or music lessons or by making an effort to attend regular arts events, [even something] as simple as a free concert in the park.”
Just be sure to start in the right places, adds Bob Lehman, executive director of the San Diego Museum Council.
“Kids love to … make noise and run around,” he says. “For an awesome first art museum experience, take your kids to the sculpture garden at the San Diego Museum of Art. This is where they can explore real art [while running] through the grassy yard and [getting] a bite to eat at the Panama 66 restaurant. There might even be some live music on the outside patio.”
Visitors can stand near the sculptures but aren’t allowed to touch them, so checking out the garden is also a great way to teach children how to respect both public and gallery art. Get close to one of the pieces and show kiddos how to look with their eyes, not their hands.
These early engagements with creative spaces can help kids interact confidently with art throughout their lives—a boon considering that institutions like museums can sometimes intimidate even adults.
“I think kids, as they grow older, become more self-conscious,” says Maru Lopez, the education and engagement manager at the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego. “So, definitely, that’s something to take into consideration, since exposure kind of makes them comfortable.”
Courtesy of the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego
“Essentially, it’s a giant playground made by innovative artists and educators,” Garin says. “Oh, this fun tube slide you’re riding? That’s the work of internationally renowned street artist Panca.”
Gabrielle Wyrick, chief curator and director of audience engagement at the New Children’s Museum, explains that the museum is one of the few in the entire country that commissions artists to make work that kids can play in and interact with.
“In the children’s museum field, there are a lot of museums that focus on STEAM and cross-disciplinary topics and adult readiness,” she says. “And we really felt like this was a prime opportunity to do something distinctive around the arts. And this is such a rich arts community and such a beautiful, beautiful space that it’s become our signature.”
The museum offers daily workshops where kids ages 6 and up can make art. There’s also a paint and clay studio, where children of all ages can drop in and create something. On Fridays, the museum has a program called Toddler Time focused specifically on younger visitors.
Outdoorsy types will appreciate the Stuart Collection at UC San Diego, since most of the pieces are on view in the open air. You can see awesome sculptures and other works while treating the visit like an adventure or scavenger hunt.
The Museum of Contemporary Art hosts a free family Play Day on the second Sunday of each month with kid-friendly museum tours and art projects. The museum collaborates with local artists and organizations, who lead crafts, share stories, and play age-appropriate tunes.
Meanwhile, Family Sundays at the Mingei International Museum also offer storytelling, musical performances, and hands-on art making with San Diego artists. They have a “Mini Mingei” series, too, providing crafts for little ones ages 2 to 5.
Museums also offer camps throughout the year (not only in summer!). And, even if you’re just stopping by for the day, many museums host fun spaces where kids can grab a seat and draw, paint, or craft.
“The Centro Cultural de la Raza has a great table just for kids to play and create,” Lehman says. “Kids can also get their fingers gooey at artistic workshops, like the ICA San Diego Ceramics Lab [that took place] this fall in Encinitas.”
The Old Globe’s annual Dr. Seuss’s How the Grinch Stole Christmas! is the first introduction to theater for many young San Diegans, Garin says. But the Globe also has free student matinees designed to engage high school students.
“I love attending these performances because I see firsthand the impact theater has on young people,” Garin adds. “Teens are dismissed as being addicted to social media or not having long attention spans, but, in our theater, they are so passionate and supportive of what’s on stage that it gives me genuine hope for the future.”
Summer musicals at Moonlight Amphitheater in Vista offer a chance to experience live performances while munching on a picnic. Lawn seating means that “kids can wiggle and squirm without bothering anyone,” Garin says.
Courtesy of the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego
What to Do When You Get There
When heading out to see art, there are things parents and caregivers can do to encourage their kids to be more engaged. The preparation starts before you arrive, Garin says, so if you’re going to a concert, listen to some of the music beforehand. Or read a summary of a play or an exhibit.
“Make it feel exciting and wondrous on the way there,” she emphasizes. “On the day, I like to arrive early, get kids a treat from concessions, and walk around the venue as long as possible before having to sit for a long period.”
“[Regardless of] how you approach any art activity, it’s correct, and that’s the beauty of art,” Lopez says. “There’s space for all of us to create, no matter our skills, especially when you’re young and you’re at that point where you’re just learning about colors and being creative. … And we say more or less the same thing in the galleries when we’re talking to them and asking, ‘What colors do you see? What is it that you’re seeing here?’ There’s no right or wrong answer. There are multiple points of entry to every work of art.”
Courtesy of the New Children’s Museum
What to Do at Home
You can read books about artists you see and provide your kids with chances to explore their creativity at home, says Eva Struble, an artist and professor at San Diego State University. She likes to give her 6-year-old son Felix found objects—like bamboo or wood scraps from their yard—as fodder for his creative play.
“You can make bridges or gates or towers out of pieces of bamboo,” she says. “We built a little stage in the backyard, so any of these objects might become part of Felix’s pirate costume, and he performs onstage.”
She also suggests bringing paper and crayons along on museum visits, so kids can sit on the floor there and sketch out some art inspired by the work they’re seeing on the gallery walls.
What to Avoid?
There can be pressure to do certain activities or see certain performances (think Hamilton or The Nutcracker), but when allegedly amazing experiences don’t live up to the hype, it can leave a bad taste in everyone’s mouth.
“So, everyone dresses up in uncomfortable clothes and experiences the event as if it’s homework,” Garin says. “This was how I first saw Cats,and I left the theater absolutely hating it. No one prepared me [for the fact] that this show would have zero talking or that the songs would be so treacly, and, from the back row of a giant theater, I felt bored and disconnected.”
Garin now enjoys and appreciates Cats—but it took her years to get there after her initial distaste for the show.
In the same vein, professional productions of The Nutcracker, for example, may feel overwhelming and stuffy to young kids. Instead, check out a version of the ballet put on by your local dance studio, where most people on that stage are students.
“Let your kids get caught up in the iconic Tchaikovsky music, the costumes, and the magical story about a land full of sweets,” Garin says. “Eventually, you can work your way up to a professional Nutcracker, and then maybe even different kinds of ballet and dance.”
Arzu Okhal, an artist and professor at San Diego State University, feels that all art institutions need to continue to find ways to make children feel excited, curious, and relaxed when visiting.
“Do you know any children who would not want to go to Target? I don’t think so,” Okhal says. “These stores provide parents with carts that kids can sit on and comfortably look at products almost from the same eye-level as their parents. Parents are comfortable, as they don’t have to carry the kids. The stores know that children are potential consumers, and if they enjoy the experience, they will be the next generation of consumers of the store.”
Art institutions should also understand this, Okhal adds. She has designed a rolling chair that museums can offer to help kids come face-to-face with the art.
“[Museums] need to find creative ways to engage and involve young audiences,” she says. “Children might not become artists when they grow up, but, if they feel welcomed, they will develop an understanding and appreciation. They will become future members and supporters of these institutions and perhaps collectors of the artwork.”
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.
Museum of Photographic Arts at the San Diego Museum of Art
Now through Jan. 10, 2027
Sift through over 200 photographs, sketches, letters, and costumes from “The King of Vogue,” who photographed World War II, modernized royal portraits, and created the aesthetic for 1920s socialites in London.
Washed Ashore: Art to Save the Sea
Natural History Museum
Now through Feb. 28, 2027
Walk through an 18-foot whale ribcage (and a couple dozen other marine-creature sculptures) made entirely of plastic bottles, flip-flops, lighters, rope, and other plastic detritus found on the beach in the Nat’s 3,000-square-foot second-floor gallery.
Forging a Legacy: 15 Years of Landmark Acquisitions
San Diego Museum of Art
Now through May 31, 2027
Part of SDMA’s centennial, “Forging a Legacy,” highlights artists from the past (Picasso, Monet) and modern day (Hugo Crosthwaite) who contributed to the museum’s collection.
ZWO Astronomy Photographer of the Year
Fleet Science Center
Now through 2027
See the stars (without the smog) at their best from the winners of the world’s largest astrophotography competition—all in the Fleet Science Center’s new basement gallery, specifically dimmed to let the cosmos shine.
Begin Again
The Old Globe
Sept. 6–Oct. 11
From the 2013 silver screen to this year’s The Old Globe stage, you can “Begin Again” (again) with a world-premiere musical adaptation featuring new songs—courtesy of Train—and a story overflowing with hope.
Dear Evan Hansen
Cygnet Theatre
Sept. 9–Oct. 4
“On the outside, always looking in…” marks the emotional crux of the Tony-, Grammy-, and Emmy-award winning musical coming to the Cygnet Theatre.
Kumeyaay Comics by the Kumeyaay Visual Storytelling Project
Museum of Us
Opening Sept. 12
Learn the history of the Kumeyaay Nation from the perspective of the members themselves in an immersive exhibit inspired by graphic novels “Our Past, Present, and Future,” and “Beyond Gaming.”
Good Night, Oscar
North Coast Repertory Theatre
Sept. 16–Oct. 11
During Oscar Levant’s appearances on “The Jack Paar Show,” he explained his reality with mental illness—the institutionalizations, electroshock therapies, nothing was too taboo for him. “Good Night, Oscar” takes us backstage in the raw moments before his 1958 television appearance.
Visiones Nocturnas: Queer Nightlife in Contemporary Art
Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego
Sept. 19–Jan. 10, 2027
A disco ball isn’t just a disco ball. It’s a symbol of where queer communities can finally exhale and be their fullest selves. “Visiones Nocturnas” uses paintings, sculptures, textiles, performances, photos, and videos from Latin American artists to explore what’s at stake when nightclub lights shut off.
Silent Movie Mondays
Balboa Theatre
Sept. 21, Oct. 26, Dec. 7
Guest organists from across the country will come to the Balboa Theatre to accompany a new silent film for each performance. This year closes out with The Headless Horseman (1922), Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde (1920), and a holiday triple feature of Laurel and Hardy films.
Oh, Mary!
Civic Theatre
Sept. 29–Oct. 4
“What if Abe’s assassination wasn’t such a bad thing for Mary Todd Lincoln?” was the question that inspired Cole Escola’s play “Oh, Mary!” In the production, Mary Todd desperately tries to return to the cabaret stage, but her husband (President Lincoln in the midst of the Civil War) keeps getting in the way.
Photo Credit: Anja Koehler
October
Payare Leads Strauss’ A Hero’s Life
Jacobs Music Center
Oct. 3–4
Conductor Rafael Payare opens the San Diego Symphony’s 2026-2027 season with a three-part concert featuring composers Sofia Gubaidulina, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and Richard Strauss.
Emily–No Prisoner Be
Baker-Baum Concert Hall
Oct. 8
Two dozen of Emily Dickinson’s poems are turned into songs—composed by Pulitzer Prize winner Kevin Puts and performed by Grammy-winning mezzo-soprano Joyce DiDonato—for a one-night-only exploration of love, loss, loneliness, and mortality.
Ripcord
The Roustabouts Theatre Co.
Oct. 8–Nov. 1
Roommate beef has no age limit. The latest play from Pulitzer Prize winner David Lindsay-Abaire turns that experience into a comedy through retirement home roommates Marilyn and Abby and the bet between them to see who will break first and move out.
Des Canyons aux Étoiles
La Casa del Zorro
Oct. 12
Composer Olivier Messiaen has chromesthia, so for him, sound evokes a visual connotation. His work “Des Canyons aux Étoiles” brings desert rock and the night sky to mind. See what he means from La Casa del Zorro in the Anza-Borrego Desert, in this performance immersed within nature.
San Diego International Film Festival
Locations Vary
Oct. 13–18
San Diego International Film Festival salutes the silver screen for a 25th time, now with a sixth day adding extra time for parties, screenings, and movie-star tributes.
Considered one of the masterpieces from opera great Giuseppe Verdi, San Diego Opera’s “Rigoletto” sees what happens when the prurient Duke of Mantua and his sharp-tongued court jester become entangled in a fatal curse.
Grim
La Jolla Playhouse
Oct. 27–Nov. 29
When the Grim Reaper’s job becomes too…grim…and he retires after 300,000 years, his daughter picks up the family business. But when she falls for a human and finds beauty in the souls she’s meant to reap, she questions her purpose.
Photo Credit: Ron Kerner
November
Skate Craft
Mingei International Museum
Nov. 21–May 9, 2027
San Diego is nothing without skate culture. Mingei’s “Skate Craft” portrays skateboarding as “living folk art” via its DIY roots (skateboards built in garages) and shows how that ethos shapes the future.
Emma Veidt is an editor at San Diego Magazine. She earned her bachelor's and master's degrees from the Missouri School of Journalism. She loves running, hiking, and rock climbing, but really, she mostly loves encounters with the street cats around North Park.
Ryan Hardison is a freelance arts and entertainment writer and recent graduate of San Diego State. When he's not staring at his laptop, he's likely eating an adobada burrito or getting sunburnt at the beach.
The logic was fair and sound: Cultural institutions and events help attract visitors. Those visitors pay hotel taxes. So, the people agreed, some of that hotel-tax revenue should go back into maintaining the cultural ecosystem that helps bring those visitors and that money.
Projected as a five-year plan, the measure was supposed to increase funding to $17.9 million by 2017.
It never did. The penny was never guaranteed, so each year the city used part of it for other priorities. By 2023, the money going to arts and culture was up to about a half a penny. Even as TOT revenue has gone up significantly.
In 2019, TOT revenue was $245 million.
In 2025: $325 million.
One fix would be to guarantee the penny. Not simple, given San Diego’s financial woes. But the alternative—eroding the culture that makes San Diego San Diego, give it its identity—also doesn’t feel wise. Plus, even a locked percentage still rises and falls with tourism, which is why culture advocates want a guaranteed floor on top of it.
Another solution would be to give the arts commission actual authority.
“It’s an advisory body,” says arts commissioner Kamaal Martin. “You’d be hard-pressed to find anybody who takes our advice.”
Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman
He described the commissioners debating real, consequential questions this year, like whether and how to divide the cuts between funding pools. But those conversations “don’t connect to whoever’s actually deciding,” Martin says. “We haven’t been entrusted with decision-making about relevant things nearly enough.”
Christine Martinez is building political infrastructure through her organization Arts+Culture:San Diego—which is starting a 501(c)(4) lobbying structure not unlike police and fire unions. Martinez is also keeping her community actively engaged. “We won’t be caught off guard next year like we were this year,” she tells me.
Then there’s the evergreen issue of affordability and accessibility. Kiplinger’s most recent report ranks San Diego as the 11th most expensive city in the US, based on cost of living. The average home value is $980,700 (the US median is $540,000), but San Diego’s median household income is only one-third greater than the national level. Rent is also 66 percent higher than the national average ($2,716 vs. $1,636).
This is why San Diego has long suffered from the creative brain drain—creatives leaving for more affordable cities. “Artists are free to live wherever they want, and they will go where the rent is affordable,” says Jennifer de Poyen of Space 4 Art. “When they leave, they take their gifts with them, and their contributions, and their economic impact.”
One saving grace is the presence of Tijuana, where the cost of living is about 60 percent lower than San Diego, per Numbeo. Tijuana has long functioned as an affordable neighborhood for many in San Diego’s creative culture. It’s part of the reason why the binational identity is such a constant in our galleries, music, theater, murals, and culture. While that cross-border blood flow is one of San Diego’s most compelling attributes, few artists living that life would call it convenient or easy. A city is at a disadvantage when its culture creators have to cross a border to go home at night, and cross again the next morning to work.
In May, San Diego County Board of Supervisors approved a $2.75 million arts initiative of its own. It includes an Artist Space Grant Program aimed directly at the affordability crisis, as well as an artist-in-residence program, a dedicated Binational Creative Economy Investment, and a one-time investment in the Black Arts and Culture District in Encanto.
Bob Lehman of San Diego Art Matters has been doing county-level, binational organizing for years; in 2023, he helped get the county’s arts commission reestablished after 30 years of defunctness. That’s important because it gives arts and culture an official seat in county government, advising the County Board of Supervisors on arts and culture policy. He also brought in consultant Laura Zucker, who ran LA County’s arts program for three decades, to build a real regional plan.
“I really believe we’ll have something set up here that other communities come and look at,” he told me. “A national template other cities come to learn from.”
When asked who decides which artists will get the new grant money, county arts commissioner and executive director of the Chicano Park Museum and Cultural Center Monica Delgadillo Hernandez doesn’t hedge.
“That’s part of the infrastructure we’re going to be building,” she says. “What should a panel of reviewers look like? Should it be the commissioners? Should it be other folks? A supervisor?” She was just as candid that the commission itself doesn’t reflect San Diego’s population—Chicano communities are roughly a third of the city, she tells me, “and that’s not represented at the table yet.”
Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman
What Other Cities Prove Is Possible
The great news is that none of these solutions have to be invented from scratch. Numerous cities serve as examples of what’s possible—if we have the will.
Jonathon Glus—Prebys Foundation Senior Fellow for Art & Design, the Executive Director of the Art + Design District, and board president for California for the Arts—worked in Houston before coming to San Diego. The Texas city dedicates 74.5 percent of its hotel tax to arts grants by formula, and that support is guaranteed. Washington, DC locked in dedicated arts funding in 2019. Salt Lake City, my hometown, has run a voter-approved arts tax for almost 30 years, most recently reauthorized through 2034. And just this summer, New York City pushed cultural funding to a record $323.8 million, even incorporating an emergency fund.
Denver’s model is interesting because instead of a city-dependent funding model, theirs is a 0.1 percent regional sales tax. In place since 1988 and renewed by voters three times, their Scientific & Cultural Facilities District has distributed between $54 million and $85 million to arts, culture, and scientific orgs—each of the last 12 years.
This is part of a three-part series. This is Act III. See Act I and Act II here.
None of these cities got there by accident. They decided, on purpose, that arts and culture were worth protecting from politics—and, in some cases, worth building an entire identity around.
“That’s how Miami has flipped the switch,” says Glus. “People go to Miami for culture as much as they do the beach.”
San Diego has spent decades selling itself backward: Beach and weather first, culture as an afterthought you might stumble into. Glus would love to see the strategy flipped: Visitors should come for the art, “and then, by the way, you’re on the beach.”
Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman
So What Happens From Here?
“I do think it was a wake-up call for the community,” de Poyen says of the budget fight. “People understand that our funding is vulnerable. It was a lesson in how much power people have when they coalesce. But wow, is it painful.”
Glus says he’s genuinely optimistic. “The players have all changed seats, but the work is moving forward.”
“I believe optimism is a moral duty,” says Martin, who’s both power-fist and polite.
In eight months, there will be another budget fight. Everyone I talked to expects it will be worse. But something happened this spring that can’t be undone.
“I hope this rupture has brought us together in a moment of self-realization,” says Leticia Gomez Franco of the Balboa Art Conservation Center. “I hope we stop being so transactional; we begin to see ourselves and each other as partners in this work.”
That’s the whole ask, really. And it’s on all of us.
This is part of a three-part series. This is Act III. See Act I and Act II here.
Aaryn Belfer is a writer and editor specializing in nonfiction across art, architecture, and culture. Once upon a time, she wrote a provocative column for San Diego CityBeat (RIP). She was a runner up in the 2025 Matchbook Stories contest at the San Diego Central Library and is irrationally happy about it. Currently in her Soft Girl Era, Aaryn has expensive taste in (mostly flat) shoes and will choose a great art exhibit or live jazz concert over almost anything else. Except, possibly, Javier Bardem.
This is part of a three-part series. This is Act II. See Act I and Act III here.
Without concrete, wildflowers are just weeds. Any honest history of San Diego art and culture is tension and its reckonings. It begins before the name existed, with the Kumeyaay. It must pass through the Panama-California Exposition, one hell of a county fair that conjured Balboa Park as our grand cultural stage. It pays tribute to the lights of La Jolla, where the donor pool helped realize unrealizable things. It should mention names like Marston, Scripps, Ochoa, DeWitt, Lopez, Klauber, Baldessari, Torres… so many.
In short spaces like this, long histories like that become roll calls. So this is more of a walk through pressure points, notes on recurring forces and regional oddities.
Border life is key to understanding the here of here. Art without dialogue is just decoration. At its best, that dialogue should be a tad muddy, emotionally gassed. In other words, it should be in need of art—to widen perspective, parse meaning, see the unseen.
San Diego’s central dialogue—the magic and the stressor—is being flatmates with Mexico’s second-largest city by population. That makes San Diego a swing-gate of shared and vastly different perspectives, both its own place and something larger. And in no other major city in the US do the fresh flow of ideas from two countries—different governments, laws, mores, expressions, arts, cultures, traditions, economies, loves, and resentments—mingle at such a constant daily rate (due respect to El Paso).
That binational steam created Chicano Park, one of the most uniquely San Diegan contributions to national and international culture. When construction of the I-5 and Coronado Bridge divided Logan Heights, neighbors protested by transmuting prejudicial concrete into redwoods of Chicano art. Turning a civic wound into a beautiful and enduring landmark that expressed and preserved a core identity—like East Side Gallery in Berlin or Constitution Hill in Johannesburg—is damn near the core of what art is supposed to do.
Like any city, the underground-overground friction is crucial in San Diego. Our culture is headlined by institutions that lift creative work onto national and international stages: MCASD, The Nat, SDMA, Centro Cultural de la Raza, the Symphony, WorldBeat Center, The Old Globe, La Jolla Playhouse, Mingei, Museum of Us, Stuart Collection, Timken, ICA, Comic-Con, etc. The next mutations grow in the seams: street murals, music dives, tattoo shops, wheatpasted walls, graffiti, lowriders, surf and skate art (though in San Diego, this is mainstream), pop-up shows, backyard shows, beach raves, any place with room for people and a loose relationship with regulations.
Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman
Both art and culture get their power from power. They’re fundamentally a conversation with and retort against dominant structures. San Diego’s most pervasive structure is arguably the most rigid form: the military. Its presence is heavy in the southern tip (Border Patrol), the middle (Navy and MCAS Miramar), and northern edge (Camp Pendleton). The military is San Diego’s largest employer, by a long shot.
Within this plus-sized environment of order and hierarchy, it’s understandable that Shepard Fairey’s “OBEY” posters in the late ’90s struck such a potent chord. The most compelling punk rock is often outside a strong governor’s window. (The “OBEY” series featured an ominous, propaganda-style André the Giant wheatpasted on random ugly surfaces across San Diego—launching Fairey’s style that he eventually used for Obama’s “HOPE” poster.)
Armed forces are often viewed as the absence of creative culture—understandably so, since rogue individual expression feels like a pretty sure way to sink a war effort.
But in San Diego, the Navy’s unsuspecting role as art creator—directly or indirectly—is hard to ignore. Tattoos are a dawn-of-time practice of many early cultures, including the Kumeyaay. But Polynesia was a core realm. Sailors were exposed to it on deployment in the Pacific Rim, inking their arms with the names of loved ones and unit insignia. Back in San Diego, they’d flaunt those tats in the beaches and bars of Mission Beach or PB (Marines did the same in Oceanside.) Enlistees were the muscular flesh galleries that helped turn skin art into one of the city’s most widespread modern art forms.
During WWII, the military also trained huge legions of San Diego laborers how to build war machines. Those mechanics, engineers, machinists, welders, painters, and metal fabricators used those skills for creative good in their neighborhoods—especially in custom car culture, which took off in the post-war ’50s and ’60s. Mexican-American vets helped develop the lowrider scene, a deeply rooted part of San Diego creative expression. Galleries on slow-moving wheels.
Tourism is the other mainstream force ripe for creating against. It is both critical to San Diego’s economy, and one of the greatest barriers to deeper, more nuanced expressions of what and who San Diego is. The industry of selling our city to passers-through creates a gigantic tarp of cultural tropes. It reinforces the most obvious charms—cute zoo animal takes in an epic sunset with a giant margarita—and doesn’t yield much airspace to the thrilling micro-cultures that live and breathe where locals live and breathe. Nothing against watercolors of dolphins, but much against the hegemony of watercolors of dolphins.
Maybe because of these dominant forces, San Diegans especially tend to force underground and institutional art into a needless cage match. It’s human instinct to champion the underdog as more worthy, but that has always felt like a form of articide.
Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman
It’s like saying the only good food is made by gritty upstarts who crafted their own whisks from discarded shopping carts. Most of those plucky whisk-makers would love to eventually be paid properly, would love a stage, a grant, a building, a donor, a lighting rig, health insurance, maybe even one chair that doesn’t threaten the spine.
That’s what the major institutions do. Both stages—the duct-taped and the donored—serve vital roles and deserve commensurate support if we care about the entire lifespan of creative expression and not just its first exciting steps. Championing the starving artist exclusively just secures an enduring poverty for the creative class at large.
I’ve often theorized it’s harder to create great art and culture in cities like San Diego, where the climate is supernaturally pleasant. In colder/hotter/rainier/less beautiful cities, people are forced indoors to fabricate their own beauty (the grunge music of Seattle, the obscene creative output of Reykjavík). San Diego’s eternally mild sunshine tends to make the human body our art medium of choice. But scratch the surface of that surf poster (and I’ve only scratched a miniscule percent here), and this city’s far from the cultural shallows it gets accused of being.
Addendum: A Personal Agenda. In scouting the route of art and culture across San Diego county through history, two areas come up again and again: La Jolla and Barrio Logan. So I propose a collaboration between two icons of artful concrete—Chicano Park and Salk Institute (one of the world’s great examples of brutalism architecture). Let Barrio Logan’s muralists go nuts on that coastal science fortress, unite the realms for a moment in time.
This is part of a three-part series. This is Act II. See Act I and Act III here.
Troy Johnson is the magazine’s award-winning food writer and humorist, and a long-standing expert on Food Network. His work has been featured on NatGeo, Travel Channel, NPR, and in Food Matters, a textbook of the best American food writing.
Meet ArtsConnect, UC San Diego’s Invitation to SoCal Arts Lovers
ArtsConnect brings those experiences into view, helping residents discover what they can see, hear and create at UC San Diego while experiencing the campus in a new way.
Ask most people what UC San Diego is known for, and the arts may not be the first answer. Yet this fall, San Diegans can watch Ghostbusters with a live orchestra, try their hand at glassmaking and wander among more than 20 works of public art woven throughout the university’s La Jolla campus.
ArtsConnect brings those experiences into view, helping residents discover what they can see, hear and create at UC San Diego while experiencing the campus in a new way.
Courtesy of UC San Diego | Photo Cred: Erik Jensen | Bear, 2005, Tim Hawkinson
“The arts are at the heart of UC San Diego’s student-centered mission and vision,” says Alysson Satterlund, Vice Chancellor for Student Affairs and Campus Life. “Whether creating, participating in, or experiencing performances, the arts are essential to a healthy and truly fun Triton student experience.”
That invitation often begins where the arts intersect with other fields.
“Some of the most innovative work and discovery happen where disciplines don’t usually share a stage,” says Cristina Della Coletta, Dean of the UC San Diego School of Arts and Humanities. “So through our unique intersection of the arts with science, technology, and medicine, we are improving lives, physically and emotionally.
Take The Inaudible Ocean, a collaboration between Department of Music Professor Lei Liang and Scripps Institution of Oceanography Assistant Project Scientist Josh Jones. Over eight years, the pair recorded earthquakes, ship noise, whale songs and other sounds in remote underwater locations. They transformed those recordings into a live music experience that allowed audiences to hear the ocean in an entirely new way. The work premiered on campus in May and continues to evolve.
The arts also connect the campus to the global art world and diverse perspectives. Chief Campus Curator Jessica Berlanga Taylor recently curated the Mexico Pavilion at the 61st Venice Biennale, featuring RojoNegro, the collective formed by Noé Martínez and María Sosa. The collective will unveil a compelling new permanent installation for UC San Diego’s celebrated Stuart Collection later this fall.
ArtPower offers another easy entry point, bringing touring performers to venues including the outdoor Epstein Family Amphitheater and the intimate Loft. The nearly three dozen performances featured through its 2026-2027 season span music, dance, film, theater and conversation.
Among the fall highlights is Ghostbusters in Concert on Sept. 25, pairing the beloved 1984 film with a live performance of Elmer Bernstein’s score. Tickets start at $35, and the amphitheater is located next to the UC San Diego Blue Line trolley station.
“Every member of our community should have access to world-class art, so we work hard to remove the barriers that stand in the way,” says Colleen Kollar Smith, executive artistic director of the Campus Performances and Events Office. “That means affordable ticket prices, and performances, voices and experiences where people see themselves reflected on stage and know they belong.”
The arts at UC San Diego are not only something to watch. The Craft Center offers public classes and workshops in ceramics, jewelry, woodworking, culinary arts and even surfboard shaping. At the new Glass Center, beginners and experienced makers can explore glassmaking through classes, demonstrations and studio experiences.
Whether you want to attend a performance, make something yourself or spend an afternoon exploring public art, there is an easy way in. And the invitation extends well beyond students and alumni.
Kollar Smith says it best: “Visit, participate, spectate or create. You’re invited, and we hope you’ll connect with us soon.”
San Diego Restored Arts Funding—But the Crisis Isn’t Over
The city’s cultural sector regained millions after a proposed 85 percent cut, yet nonprofits, youth programs and major institutions still face painful losses
This is part of a three-part series. This is Act I. See Act II and Act III here.
Every spring, Christine Martinez reaches out to the arts community to explain what’s on the line, hoping they’ll engage with the city’s budget process. Cultural funding, she constantly reminds, is almost always strapped to the guillotine. Especially in a city strapped for cash.
“It’s not an easy ask,” says Martinez, manager of Arts+Culture:San Diego. “Showing up is a real cost for small, volunteer-run groups that can’t spare half a day at City Council without possibly having to close their doors.”
Then, last April—with one day’s notice to arts leaders—Mayor Todd Gloria proposed a budget that didn’t trim arts funding; it eviscerated it, from $13.8 million to $2 million. An 85 percent slash. Other city departments faced cuts of about 7 percent.
The scheduled date of the cuts was just three months away (beginning of the fiscal year). Organizational leaders have to plan months if not years ahead to run their organizations. They had made hires, dedicated spending, and programmed their seasons based on a reasonable expectation that support for the arts would be somewhat in line with previous years. (The City has allotted at least $7 million a year to arts every year for the last 20 years, and the last four years have ranged between $13.8 and $18.2 million.)
The day felt even more existential given the national and international climate around the arts: namely, the federal government’s repeated proposal to eliminate the country’s two biggest cultural foundations (NEA and NEH), and the global trend of AI replacing more costly human creatives.
“It shocked everybody,” says Kamaal Martin, arts commissioner and co-founder of Art Power Equity. “If the message had been, ‘Times are tough, everybody tighten their belts a little,’ it would have landed differently. But there was no vision offered for the future, no parity in the cut. It was just, essentially, ‘Fuck you.’”
Among things I’m good at—sleeping late, low bidding for expensive shoes on Poshmark, parallel parking on either side of the street—budget analysis isn’t among them. In trying to understand how bad the finances were for San Diego to propose this drastic cut, I found myself drowning in numbers, pie charts, and politi-speak.
In his April 27 newsletter, Gloria explained that balancing the budget means “asking hard questions about every single dollar this city spends: Is this a core responsibility of city government, or is it something we do when we can afford to?”
Fair enough—if he were to ask those hard questions about every single dollar this city spends. It also makes his conclusion clear: The City of San Diego does not view supporting arts and culture as a core responsibility.
Which begs more than a few questions: Should the City be responsible? If not, then who? How crucial are arts and culture to a city? And since this is a budget discussion, how much revenue does the arts and culture industry generate for San Diego? What’s the ROI?
Photo Credit: Katie Gardner & Matt Furman
The Impact of Arts & Culture
$1.2 billion.
That’s how much economic activity San Diego’s arts and culture nonprofits generated in 2022, according to the City’s latest Arts & Economic Prosperity 6 report. The industry created nearly 17,000 jobs and generated $878 million of personal income for local residents. About 15 percent of the people showing up to arts events in San Diego are tourists, so money was raised through TOT (Transit Occupancy Tax). The activity generated $275.7 million in tax revenue to the city.
In other words, the ROI seems to be ROI-ing.
Still, there have been signs that cuts were coming. In 2025, the City demoted the Department of Cultural Affairs to a division, folding it into the Economic Development Department (EDD). That meant Cultural Affairs no longer had independence, nor its own leader sitting at the same organizational level as departments like parks and recreation, library, police, and fire. It lost institutional leverage and would now have to compete with other EDD priorities—real estate, airport operations, business development, etc.—for budget allocation.
To be clear, few arts administrators and leaders I spoke with are interested in the either/or false choice of funding law enforcement or after-school programs; the fire departments or libraries. They’re sincere in looking for solutions that don’t leave any single group with a greater burden of righting a long-out-of-balance budget.
Aaryn Belfer is a writer and editor specializing in nonfiction across art, architecture, and culture. Once upon a time, she wrote a provocative column for San Diego CityBeat (RIP). She was a runner up in the 2025 Matchbook Stories contest at the San Diego Central Library and is irrationally happy about it. Currently in her Soft Girl Era, Aaryn has expensive taste in (mostly flat) shoes and will choose a great art exhibit or live jazz concert over almost anything else. Except, possibly, Javier Bardem.
San Diego is full of people who deserve a few thousand words on what they make, who they bring together, and how their work changes the city around them. The artists, makers, advocates, and behind-the-scenes talent below are a small part of that larger ecosystem.
To help us narrow our list, we looked for names that kept coming up, work that reflects the diversity of our region, and people building something bigger than themselves.
Jackie is a long-time freelance journalist covering cannabis, food/restaurants, travel, labor, wine, spirits, arts & culture, design, and other topics. Her work has been selected twice for Best American Travel Writing, and she has won a variety of national and local awards for her writing and reporting.
Isabella Dallas is a freelance writer for San Diego Magazine and the Arts and Culture Editor at The Daily Aztec in her final year at San Diego State University. She previously worked as an editorial intern for SDM, but when she’s not writing, you can find her trying the best coffee spots in SD, devouring the latest rom-coms, and indulging in anything and everything pop culture.
Matt Eisenberg is an award-winning writer and photographer based in San Diego. A former ESPN editor, his work has also been published by CNN, Bleacher Report and the New York Daily News.
Aaryn Belfer is a writer and editor specializing in nonfiction across art, architecture, and culture. Once upon a time, she wrote a provocative column for San Diego CityBeat (RIP). She was a runner up in the 2025 Matchbook Stories contest at the San Diego Central Library and is irrationally happy about it. Currently in her Soft Girl Era, Aaryn has expensive taste in (mostly flat) shoes and will choose a great art exhibit or live jazz concert over almost anything else. Except, possibly, Javier Bardem.
Lili Kim is a content coordinator and writer for San Diego Magazine, with experience highlighting local businesses and communities. When not writing or shooting film, she is likely brewing her seventh cup of tea of the day or strolling along Sunset Cliffs.
Emma Veidt is an editor at San Diego Magazine. She earned her bachelor's and master's degrees from the Missouri School of Journalism. She loves running, hiking, and rock climbing, but really, she mostly loves encounters with the street cats around North Park.
Gail Czyszczon is owner/copywriter at Z3 Writing and best-selling author of a children’s book series. As a strategic communications professional and editorialist, she's passionate about discovering untold stories and themes that ignite fresh conversation and true change in communities.
SeaWorld dazzles with a drone show, big-name entertainers, new animal adventures and more
By Partner Content
Nights are heating up at SeaWorld San Diego. The quintessential summertime staple on Mission Bay is transforming into a destination for unforgettable day-to-night adventures, bringing back some of its most popular Summer Nights programming and introducing exciting new experiences sure to delight both kids and adults alike.
The 2026 Summer Day to Night at SeaWorld San Diego is the park’s most ambitious season yet. SeaWorld has planned a highly anticipated entertainment lineup that features nine weeks of throwback concerts featuring R&B and hip‑hop favorites from the ‘90s and early 2000s, including Jordin Sparks, Too $hort and Warren G, Ashanti, and an array of boy band heartthrobs performing together as part of the Pop 2000 Tour.
New this season is perhaps the park’s most visible update: a nightly drone show, Ocean of Dreams, which illuminates the sky with hundreds of synchronized sparklers. Drones form sea otters, sharks, dolphins, and a majestic orca that tell a breathtaking 12-minute story of marine life and underwater ecosystems. The show culminates with a spectacular electric neon finale celebrating hope, wonder, and ocean stewardship.
Nighttime visitors are also in store for animal adventures that fuse education with high-energy fun and the dreamy ambiance of nighttime. The park has launched two all-new animal presentations: Shamu’s Celebration:Light Up the Night and Dolphins: Touch the Sky. Shamu’s Celebration:Light Up the Night features vibrant lighting, music, and dynamic choreography that celebrates the power and beauty of killer whales. Dolphins: Touch the Sky showcases playful bottlenose dolphins and the special connection between humans and the natural world. And back by popular demand is fan-favorite Sea Lions Tonite. See the charming pinnipeds splash, play, and parody pop culture in this refreshed crowd-pleaser.
More must-sees: a newly reimagined Shark Encounter, one of the country’s more immersive exhibits highlighting 11 different species up close, SeaWorld’s beloved BMX Blast! stunt show, and high-seas escapade, Pirates Ahoy! The Battle for Mermaid Cove. And don’t miss the park’s all-new Deep Sea Disco, which encourages guests to dance the night away under the glow of the SkyTower, and vibrant closing time laser light display Laser Reef Summer Spectacular.
Amp up the nighttime vibe with local craft beers, curated cocktails, and nostalgic theme park treats with $1 beer all summer long. SeaWorld is the place for day to night summer fun. When the sun goes down, SeaWorld lights up, and inspires guests of all ages to embrace their inner whimsy and see why generations of San Diegans head to SeaWorld to make memories they’ll never forget.
