Design technique — where it appears
Named by 16 essays across 3 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
Bringing the other side to the front
Paper has two sides and most models show one. A colour change shows the other, and it is not a crease problem — which panels can show the reverse is settled by the pattern's two-colouring, and what it costs is twice what it shows.
When symmetry costs
Design software and designers both reach for symmetry, and for a good reason: it makes the search enormously easier. It is a heuristic and not a theorem, and how much it gives away can be measured — including the case where the optimum is symmetric about an axis nobody imposed.
The square is a choice
Every packing on this site has been into a square, because origami paper is sold square. Hold the area fixed and vary the shape instead and the efficiency turns out to be spiky rather than smooth — with the same peak value at every proportion that is a ratio of two factors of the flap count, and nowhere else.
Paying in paper
A feature added to a finished design costs exactly the paper inserted for it. Cut the crease pattern along a line, slide in a strip, and every existing crease continues across it unchanged — so the bill is the strip's width times the length of the cut, and there is no second term.
The corner is worth four times the middle
A flap consumes every point of paper within its own length of its tip — but only the paper that is actually there. On an edge of the sheet that is half a disc, and in a corner a quarter, so the same flap costs four different prices depending on where it stands and the boundary is the cheapest paper on the sheet.
What the grid settles
Box pleating is usually defended as a trade: give up efficiency, buy creases that land where they should. There is a second thing it buys and nobody quotes it — on a lattice the best possible packing is a finite question with an answer, while off the lattice nobody knows the best packing of six circles in a square and probably never will.
Spelling a tree on a grid
Box pleating asks every limb of a design to be a whole number of grid squares, which sounds like rounding and is not. Rounding each limb to its own nearest whole number is one way to choose the numbers, and at most resolutions it is not the best way — the best whole-number version of a subject is often a coarser one, with fewer squares and a shape twice as close.
Which side arrives
A colour change is described as a choice: bring the reverse of the sheet to the front where the design wants it. On a pattern whose panels can be ordered, nobody chooses. The preliminary base shows the side that started face up over one part in a thousand of its own footprint, and two of its eight panels are the only ones in view at all.
The corner that splits the shrink
The universal molecule fills a convex polygon by shrinking it, and at a corner that turns back the shrink does something no convex polygon does: the region breaks in two. That event can now be computed — the skeleton of a non-convex outline is available here for the first time, and it is what lets one straight cut reach a star. It does not give the molecule back, because a molecule needs the shrinking region to stay one piece and a split is exactly the moment it stops.
The reader decides the junction
Five of the eight patterns printed here have places where one crease ends on another — four on the preliminary base, eight on the square twist, twelve on the hexagon twist, nineteen on the Yoshimura, three on the fold-and-cut triangle. At each of them a reader has to decide whether two lines meet or pass through one another, and no notation, caption or teaching text in the subject mentions that the decision is being made.
What a grid costs in circuits
Box-pleating puts every crease on a square grid, and a square grid is the shape with the most short circuits per panel that this collection draws. On the sixteen-by-sixteen grid a designer actually works on, one mountain-valley labelling in a hundred agrees with itself. A search still finds one in two hundred and sixty-one steps.
Ninety-nine in a hundred pass
A designer checks a box-pleated pattern the way every text teaches: vertex by vertex, counting mountains and valleys, watching the smallest sector. At sixteen divisions that check passes a hundred letterings in a hundred, and one of them folds. The check that separates them costs a single sweep over the crease list and is in no recipe anywhere.
The cut that changes nothing
A slit goes right through the material and leaves the sheet exactly the object it was. A closed cut removes almost no paper and produces a different sheet with a condition it did not have. Kirigami is made almost entirely of the first kind, which is why every result about it survives the distinction untouched.
A graft needs a square line
A strip can be slid into a finished crease pattern only along a line every crossed crease meets square, because only such a crease continues across the strip as itself. Tried on every line between the vertex columns and rows of eight printed patterns, four take no strip in either direction and three take one in a single direction. The eighth, the fold-and-cut triangle, appears to take strips both ways, and every line it admits runs through blank margin. No printed pattern takes a strip across its creases in both directions — and one diagonal crease in a plain grid removes exactly the row and the column it sits in.
A design that keeps its lines clear
A strip can be slid in only along a line every crossed crease meets square, so a diagonal crease spends the lines it crosses — and the census of eight printed patterns found four taking no strip in either direction. What decides how fast a design spends them is not how many diagonals it has but which rows and columns they sit in: six diagonals on a six-by-six grid leave twelve clear lines when they share a row and none at all when no two do, from the same six creases and the same amount of paper.
One sheet down
A colour change has been priced by how deep the pile is — eight layers over every point of the preliminary base, six on a small Miura. Ordered, the piles say something else: wherever the other side of the paper lies under a point, it is the next sheet down on every pattern with one folded state, and never more than two down on any. And relettering the same creases cannot reach it. Of 112 letterings of the preliminary base that fold, every one shows either the printed face or the whole face turned the other colour; the square twist's eight only turn its face round.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Box pleatingGridCircle packingTwo-colouringColour changeCrease patternGraftingLayer orderAssignmentBoundaryConservationEfficiency