Berkeley is full of hills. Steep ones. If you’ve ever hiked up toward the Rose Garden, your calves have probably felt the burn. But nestled right there, tucked behind the greenery and the winding roads of the Northside, is a place that looks like it fell out of ancient Greece. It’s called the Temple of the Wings. Honestly, if you didn’t know it was a private residence, you’d probably think you stumbled onto a movie set for a film about Dionysus.
It isn't a ruin. People live there.
The house—if you can even call it that—is a massive Greco-Roman colonnade that sits at 2800 Buena Vista Way. It’s legendary. It’s odd. It is, quite literally, the physical manifestation of a dream about freedom, dance, and getting rid of stuffy Victorian corsets.
The Boyntons and the Dream of Barefoot Living
Back in the early 1900s, Florence Treadwell Boynton had a vision. She was a childhood friend of Isadora Duncan, the "Mother of Modern Dance." Both women shared a pretty radical philosophy for the time: life should be lived outdoors, in rhythm with nature, and preferably while wearing flowing tunics instead of restrictive 19th-century gear.
Florence didn't just want to talk about it. She wanted to build it.
She and her husband, Charles Boynton, commissioned Bernard Maybeck to design a home that reflected these ideals. Maybeck is a giant in Bay Area architecture. You probably know him from the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco. He started the sketches, but eventually, the project was handed over to A. Randolph Monro. The goal was simple but wild: a house without walls.
They wanted the wind to blow through the living room. Literally.
The original structure, completed around 1914, was basically two circular porches connected by a massive open-air courtyard. There were no traditional rooms. If you wanted privacy, you pulled a heavy canvas curtain. If it got cold, you turned on the radiant heating—which was incredibly high-tech for the time—embedded in the floors. The Boyntons lived here with their many children, teaching open-air dance classes and hosting "socials" where people wandered around in togas. It sounds like a hippie commune, but this was decades before the 1960s. This was Berkeley’s original avant-garde.
Fire and the Rebirth of the Temple
Then came 1923. The Great Berkeley Fire.
👉 See also: Finding the University of Arizona Address: It Is Not as Simple as You Think
It was a disaster. It tore through the hills and leveled hundreds of homes. The Temple of the Wings was gutted. The original wood and canvas didn't stand a chance against the flames. However, the 34 massive Corinthian columns stayed standing. They looked like ancient ruins charred by time.
The Boyntons didn't give up. They rebuilt, but they had to get a bit more practical. They enlisted architect Clarence Dakin to help enclose some of the spaces because, as it turns out, living in an entirely wall-less house in the foggy Bay Area is actually pretty difficult. They added glass. They added some solid walls. But they kept the spirit. Even today, the home maintains that "living in a porch" vibe that makes it so distinct from the Craftsman homes surrounding it.
Why the Architecture Matters Today
Most modern houses are boxes. We live in boxes, we look out of smaller glass boxes, and we drive boxes to work. The Temple of the Wings is the antithesis of the box.
Architecturally, it’s a mix of Neoclassical and "First Bay Tradition." It uses local materials but shapes them into something that feels eternal. The columns are the star of the show. They aren't just decorative; they define the entire footprint. When you look at the house from the street, you're seeing a rhythmic pattern of vertical lines that frame the Berkeley hills and the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance.
It’s about the "Borrowed Landscape." This is a concept where the view is as much a part of the house as the furniture. By using columns instead of walls, the Boyntons weren't just looking at the view; they were living inside of it.
- The use of cast stone and concrete was a direct response to the fire risk.
- The layout encourages movement—you don't just walk from room to room, you "flow."
- It remains one of the most significant examples of how Berkeley's intellectual culture shaped its physical landscape.
The Isadora Duncan Connection
You can't talk about this place without talking about the dance. Isadora Duncan was a rebel. She hated ballet. She thought it was artificial and "ugly." She wanted a dance that came from the soul, inspired by the movement of waves and the swaying of trees.
The Temple of the Wings became a sanctuary for this "Duncan Dance."
Florence Boynton taught generations of Berkeley kids how to dance here. They weren't learning rigid positions. They were learning to express themselves. Imagine being a kid in 1920, coming from a strict household, and arriving at this giant stone temple to jump around barefoot in a tunic. It must have felt like another planet.
✨ Don't miss: The Recipe With Boiled Eggs That Actually Makes Breakfast Interesting Again
This legacy continued for a long time. The house stayed in the Boynton/Quitzow family for nearly a century. This isn't just a house; it's a family heirloom that doubled as a school of the arts. When it finally went up for sale in the 2000s, it was a massive deal for the local community. People were terrified a developer would come in and "modernize" it—which usually just means ruining it.
Living in a Landmark: The Reality
In 1994, the Temple of the Wings was designated a Berkeley Landmark. Later, it was added to the National Register of Historic Places.
But here’s the thing: it’s still a house.
The Getty family eventually purchased the property and underwent a massive, multi-year restoration. This wasn't just a "let’s paint the walls" kind of job. They had to stabilize the hillside, restore the intricate stone work, and modernize the infrastructure without losing that "open air" soul.
It’s a weird tension. How do you keep a house that was designed to have no walls comfortable for a modern family?
The answer lies in the details. They kept the Corinthian capitals. They kept the mosaic floors. They preserved the sense of scale. When you stand in the courtyard today, you still feel that sense of Greco-Roman grandeur, even if the canvas curtains have been replaced by high-end glass and the "radiant heat" is now a bit more reliable.
Misconceptions People Have
- "It’s a public park." Nope. It’s a private home. Don't go wandering into the courtyard unless you want a very awkward conversation with security or the owners.
- "Isadora Duncan lived there." Actually, she visited and influenced it heavily, but it was Florence Boynton’s home and project.
- "It’s just a rich person’s mansion." While it’s certainly expensive now, it started as a middle-class intellectual’s dream. The Boyntons weren't tycoons; they were teachers and artists.
What You Can Actually See
Since you can't just walk in, how do you experience the Temple of the Wings?
The best way is from the sidewalk on Buena Vista Way. It’s a public street. You can walk by and see the columns soaring up into the trees. It’s especially beautiful at sunset. The light hits the stone and gives it a warm, golden glow that makes the whole Isadora Duncan "sun-worshiper" thing make total sense.
🔗 Read more: Finding the Right Words: Quotes About Sons That Actually Mean Something
If you’re a fan of architecture, pay attention to how the house interacts with the slope. It doesn't fight the hill. It sits on it. This is a hallmark of Maybeck’s philosophy—buildings should look like they grew out of the ground, not like they were dropped there by a crane.
You should also check out the nearby "Maybeck Twin Drive" and the "Rose Walk." The whole neighborhood is a living museum of the First Bay Tradition. You can see how other architects of the era were trying to solve the same problem: how do we live in California in a way that feels unique to California?
Why This Matters in 2026
We spend so much time indoors now.
The Temple of the Wings is a reminder that there was a time when people thought that was a bad idea. They thought being separated from the air and the wind was literally bad for your soul. In an age of climate-controlled offices and endless screen time, there’s something really refreshing about a house that was built to let the outside in.
It’s also a lesson in resilience. That house survived the 1923 fire. It survived the 1989 earthquake. It survived the changing whims of architectural fashion. It stands there as a testament to the idea that if you build something with a strong enough "soul" or "vibe," people will fight to keep it alive.
Honestly, it’s just cool.
In a world of cookie-cutter developments and "modern farmhouses," Berkeley has a Greek temple on a hill where people used to dance barefoot to celebrate the sun.
How to Explore the History Yourself
If you want to dive deeper into the story of the Temple of the Wings, you don't have to just stare at it from the street.
- Visit the Berkeley Historical Society: They have incredible archives on the Boynton family and Isadora Duncan. You can find old photos of the dance classes that really put the scale of the place in perspective.
- Check out the Isadora Duncan Archive: This gives you the context of the "Free Dance" movement that inspired the architecture.
- Take a Maybeck Walking Tour: Local groups often organize walks through the Northcrag and Berkeley Hills that focus on these historic homes.
- Read "The Five Lives of Isadora Duncan": It’s not just about her; it’s about the whole cultural "vibe" that led to houses like this being built.
The Temple of the Wings isn't just a building. It's an argument. It’s an argument that life should be beautiful, open, and perhaps a little bit impractical. Next time you’re in North Berkeley, take the detour. Walk up the hill. Look at those columns. It’s worth the hike.