New Yorkers know Swoon best for her woodcut block prints and paper cutout paste-ups, which seem to proliferate on the corners of the city as if by an invisible hand. But as of late, she’s relocated her guerrilla art-making from the streets and sidewalks to a wholly different venue: the open water.

In 2006, Swoon launched a two-summer project with a group of fellow artists called “Miss Rockaway Armada,” in which they created three connected rafts from salvaged urban materials like wood and foam blocks, added some recycled car engines, and floated 800 miles down the Mississippi River, stopping along the way to give art workshops.

Inspired by that experience, Swoon recently launched another waterborne project, “Swimming Cities of the Switchback Sea.” On August 15, a fleet of seven handcrafted boats — each a “floating sculpture” designed by Swoon from repurposed materials — set sail from Troy, New York, with Long Island City, Queens, as a destination. The traveling community of more than 40 artists stopped in eight cities along the Hudson River to perform music and a play about the imagined origins of the “Swimming Cities” written by the multidisciplinary artist Lisa D’Amour.  

Part seafaring shanty town, part performance art project, and part floating sculpture display, “Swimming Cities” concluded its journey on September 2. From September 7 through October 18 it will dock at Deitch Studios in Long Island City for an exhibition that includes the boats, some new portraits by Swoon, sea imagery based on the river projects, and three live performances (September 11–13).

ARTINFO reached Swoon on her cell phone in the final days of the voyage.

How is “Swimming Cities” different from your earlier boat project?

“Miss Rockaway Armada” was a living social experiment as well as a traveling art project. [“Swimming Cities”] focuses on the art.

You have said that Venice was one of your inspirations for “Swimming Cities.” What were you thinking about when you made the boats?

I looked at a lot of different floating communities, from fishing villages to places like Coney Island that seem fantastical or never really made it into existence. I wanted to create an experience that wouldn’t be instantly recognizable, something from which people could create a few different narratives.

How does the performance aspect of the project fit into that vision?

Lisa D’Amour really understood what we were doing, and we talked during the process. The characters [in the play] give you their own totally conflicting versions of the origins of this floating community and where it’s going.   

Your group has been on the water for three weeks. What was your favorite part of the journey?

Yesterday [Sept. 1] we approached New York City, which felt like crossing the border. We had all the rafts lashed together and were going down the river as one big mass as we passed under the shadow of the George Washington Bridge. The sun was blocked out for a good, long while, and everyone just started yelling and whooping like banshees. We had arrived. That was beautiful.

What was the most difficult part?

Living on a tiny moving space with 60 people and learning to deal with the extreme, changing currents of the Hudson.

How did people react to your arrival in each city and the performances?

There was lots of curiosity and wonder and surprise. New Yorkers have nothing on the Midwesterners we encountered [when we traveled down the Mississippi for “Miss Rockaway Armada”]. Midwesterners are such a wonderful audience — so open and full of real sentiment when they see you coming. There were way more deliveries of spaghetti dinners and clean socks.

The Deitch exhibition involves the boats being docked to a 25-foot paper sculpture of two sisters embracing. How did that come about?

I was on a residency last summer. I had just left the boats on the Mississippi a couple of days prior when my friend called very early one morning to tell me that the boats were in a lot of danger and having a lot of trouble. I fell back asleep and dreamed of a giant woman with huge, complexly patterned skirts who said, “You can dock here, under my skirts, and I will keep you safe.” That sweet, funny image evolved into the sisters; it’s a perfect docking place for the “Switchback” vessels to travel to.

How do “Miss Rockaway Armada” and “Swimming Cities” mesh with your street-art roots?

They are hugely different kinds of artwork, but they function in the same way, showing up where you might not expect them and speaking to the landscape they are in as well as to the people who see them.

I try to create artwork that lives in a daily setting and has relevance outside of art institutions and doesn’t depend on them for context.