title: I Miss You Drive In
artist: Rebecca Griffith
materials: video projection in window
dimensions: 33.5 inches x 69.5 inches
location: Villa Park, Illinois, US
I Miss You Drive in is a direct response to the shelter in place order. I created a space where we can enjoy the things we miss most while in quarantine at home. I curated this video piece from movie scenes that depict the human interaction that we are learning to live without; hugs, parties, vacations, and work. We are all experiencing very similar new normals. We watch hours of TV to entertain ourselves, to occupy our personal spaces with life and sound, and we are all doing it alone. Like the traditional drive in theatre, my small neighborhood in the suburbs of Chicago can watch safely from their balconies and cars.
“I selected movies from my VHS collection that I had in my studio, restraining how I usually pick films, being that I was unable to search thrift stores for the movies I want. Like the film selections, the project setup was also dependent on what I had on hand, objects I have accumulated and hoarded over time; using sheets, thumbtacks, and an inexpensive projector."
Mrs. Doubtfire (1993)
Hocus Pocus (1993)
Spice World (1997)
Men in Black (1997)
Grease 2 (1982)
Empire Records (1995)
Son in Law (1993)
Pretty Woman (1990)
Werewolf in London (1981)
Big (1988)
In addition to creating video-based media, Rebecca Griffith also works with found materials and personal belongings she reconstructs as textiles, tapestries, and sculptural objects that often incorporate VHS cassettes. Griffith is an artist and art educator living and working in the suburbs of Chicago. She is on the Purple Window Co-op board and serves on their curatorial committee. Follow her on Instagram: @beegriph
More on Rebecca Griffith's practice
I excavate material from VHS cassettes discussing the human body, the human nervous system, nostalgia, and memory. My work examines the process of coping and caregiving for a parent’s illness from a young age to adulthood. By quilting from VHS magnetic tape, neon lights, installations, and videos; I recall a time of my life when my mother was not suffering from multiple sclerosis and running a video store in the early 1990s. My series, Video Magic, reflects upon the empathetic idea of what and how something can be cared for, and how to extend the life of something; whether it be a person or a VHS cassette.
