Yonago, Tottori Prefecture — As morning mist spreads over the town, the quiet pulse of the sea seems to whisper the essence of this place. A California artist finds herself returning to a coastal town where quiet vitality lingers like morning mist, wrapping the narrow streets in a soft, damp embrace. Tucked along the Sea of Japan, the city of Yonago unfolds: its rhythm shaped by misty mornings, narrow backstreets, and the soft thrum of community life. It’s here, far from California’s bold coastlines and busy galleries, that San Diego-based artist Olivia Obrecht finds herself returning, drawn back by something unspoken.
In July, she opened her second exhibition in the city, a quiet gathering of 52 works by 38 artists, all themed around one humble object: the bottle. But these weren’t simply commercial labels. Instead, each was imagined as a tribute—to memory, to shared meals, to the hands that pass things along.
Olivia first came to Yonago by chance. In 2016, after studying illustration and fine art at the Otis College of Art and Design in Los Angeles, she joined the JET Programme. This long-running Japanese government initiative places native English speakers in local schools across Japan to promote language education and international exchange. She was placed in Unnan, a small town nestled near Yonago. A friend from nearby Yasugi introduced her to the city, and something ineffable about Yonago quietly stayed with her.
What captured her was the city’s timeless charm. Step just off its main streets, and Yonago reveals quaint alleys and old-fashioned shopping areas, echoing the Japan of the Shōwa era (a time of mid-20th-century growth and nostalgia). Here, you’ll find vintage wooden houses lining narrow paths, and retro signboards gracing small shops and traditional cafés, making time feel as if it’s slowed down. These backstreets, untouched by excessive tourism, offer a glimpse into local life. Laundry sways in the breeze; potted plants adorn doorways, exuding a warm sense of everyday living.
Photo via Creative Commons
“There’s a gentle openness here,” she says. “The community in Yonago is close, and people invite you in right away. The city is small enough that you become known, not just seen.”
Olivia was born in the United States to a Navy neuropsychologist and an English teacher. Yet it was the quiet streets of Yokosuka—where she spent her early childhood after the family moved to Japan—that left a lasting mark. The sounds of temple bells, salty sea air, and distant ship horns shape her memories. One day, during a visit to a shopping mall in Tokyo, she was invited to draw as part of a children’s activity. Her parents, moved by the picture she created, told her, “You could be an artist.” The words lingered—and quietly opened the path ahead.
Later, she was drawn to the flowing lines of Art Nouveau, the geometry of Art Deco, and the bold clarity of tattoo design—along with quiet influences from Japanese manga, art, architecture, and landscape. Her work, often in monochrome, holds a tension between softness and strength.
The Yonago exhibition was conceived after Olivia took part in a CD-cover-themed group show in Los Angeles. She wanted something tactile, intimate—and local. Bottles donated by neighbourhood bars and eateries became the medium.
During her stay, a spontaneous dinner conversation with the director and doctors of Tottori University Hospital led to something unexpected: her work now adorns the hospital’s internal gallery.
Many of her recent pieces are inspired by Japan’s vibrant natural beauty, including Mount Fuji, Mount Daisen, the curve of a petal, or the flicker of an insect’s wing. This infusion of nature’s rich hues often translates into a meditative process for Olivia, shaping her thoughts before they take form in her distinctive monochromatic expressions. “I hope people find energy flowing in the figures in my work,” she says, “and in turn, discover a profound space for quiet reflection within themselves.”
Her next chapter begins in Taipei this September, where she will take part in a month-long artist residency alongside two fellow American artists. Afterwards, she will return to the West Coast—be it San Diego or Los Angeles—where the echoes of Yonago may find new shapes, new lines, and new light. The journey continues, whether sketching in a quiet Taiwanese café or along the Pacific coast, her brushstrokes continue to trace her path—sketchbook in hand.
Yonago’s morning mist lingers—not just in the air, but in her lines and light.
— Words by Takashi Saito; Photo courtesy of Olivia Obrecht