Nearly thirty years after its release, James Cameron’s Titanic (1997) remains a source of inspiration and critical examination. A Titanic enthusiast, artist Claudia Bitrán (b. 1986) has recreated the film scene by scene with both love and scrutiny. Developed over twelve years, the resulting work, Titanic, A Deep Emotion, marks its New York premiere at Cristin Tierney Gallery.
In the opening painting, Sometime Between 2:15 and 2:17 (2026), the enormous ship is half-submerged. The beautiful turquoise of the ocean and the glitter against the dark expanse lend the scene an eerily romantic tint. But upon closer scrutiny, one can see a swarm of human figures struggling to get out of the sinking ship in desperate gestures. Installed on a wall that blocks the rest of the exhibition from view, the painting suspends the viewer in a state of unease between a tension-filled moment and the tragedy it embodies.
With Titanic, A Deep Emotion Production Wall, Bitrán further stirs up a sense of awe, though in a completely different manner. In contrast to the opening painting’s grand, historical scope, the production wall insists on the minutiae. Hand-drawn storyboards, production notes, and miniature models spread across the wall, forming the silhouette of the giant vessel. By materializing the labor behind the project and displaying it at full scale, Bitrán emphasizes that it is the accumulation of human time and effort that makes something as grandiose as a ship of dreams possible.
Right across from the production wall stands the centerpiece of the exhibition: a three-channel video installation of Bitrán’s shot-by-shot remake. A visual collage of live action, stop-motion animation, and backstage footage, Titanic, A Deep Emotion is punctuated by traces of artifice and improvisation. Unlike Cameron, who was operating with a production budget of around $200 million, Bitrán relies on grants, artist residencies, exchanges of favors, and her own money to realize her vision. Because of and in spite of financial and technical constraints, Bitrán experiments with many different forms and approaches. She uses recycled materials to create props and sets, and films scenes that remind her of Titanic on city streets. Hence, we see a ship made of McDonald’s boxes and egg cartons grazing a pile of crumpled paper, while a cloud of steam rising from the orange-and-white pipes in New York City stands in for the smoke of the Titanic’s funnels.
