A Deep Ocean, A Cardboard Ship

By Julia Brukx, The Retrospective Review
February 22, 2026

Art can be so wonderful. The greatest, most enthusiastic art can leave you with a feeling not just of I could do that but need to do that. It lights a fire, a deep explosive power in the pit of your chest that won’t rest until you’ve created something something as wonderful as what you’ve just witnessed. That inspiration passes like a virus, released only when you’ve made something big enough to hold the fire. The problem for most of us is that we are not artists. We don’t know how to transform that feeling into reality, to imagine something out of nothing and trust that we’ll make it out on the other side. Most of us don’t actually know where to begin. What would be really great is if we could make exactly what we just saw. Surely that would let out the fire, it’s too bad it’s already been made. So we live with the fire, letting it excitedly hop around until it dies, waiting until it’s ignited once again.

 

Artist Claudia Bitrán has apparently found a better outlet for that fire. After seeing James Cameron’s Titanic in theaters as a preteen and “a million times” since, she endeavored to recreate the film, shot by shot, entirely by hand using recycled materials, practical effects, and the people around her. The resulting film, Titanic, a Deep Emotion on view at Cristin Tierney Gallery through March 28, is a fantastical, joyful celebration of art, collaboration, and the love of getting to make something. It’s a testament to the power of pop culture and awe-inspiring media. Rather than appreciating the film, learning the techniques, and using them to create something new—a more respected approach that inspired artists have been following for centuries—Bitrán rearranges the process. She creates the same film and invents the techniques, remixing the original as raw material rife for creativity.