Gluing — where it appears
Named by 49 essays across 9 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The seam carries a sign
A loop of paper folds flat when it has an even number of creases round it. A Möbius band folds flat when it has an odd number. The drawing is the same in both cases, the creases are the same creases, and what changed is a factor of minus one contributed by the sheet rather than by anything drawn on it.
The band that needs an odd number
A Möbius band is the first sheet in this collection with one side, and the consequence is sharper than a reversed parity. Mountain and valley are defined relative to a side, so on a sheet with no consistent side a crease has no letter — and Maekawa's condition survives the loss while the assignment it is about does not.
Closure is not the identity
Walk a folded state from panel to panel, composing a reflection at every crease, and come back to where the walk started: the composition has to be the identity. That is the rule everybody states, and it is a special case. On a sheet whose edges are glued the walk does not come back to where it started, and what the composition has to equal is the gluing map.
The triangle a strip becomes
A Möbius band of paper folds flat into an equilateral triangle, and the shortest strip that will do it is √3 times its own width. The number is not put in: the crease angles come out of a condition on their alternating sum, the positions come out of two linear equations, and the length is where the drawing stops fitting.
An alternating sum of angles
Kawasaki's condition says the sectors round a vertex alternate to a straight angle. A glued band has no vertices and obeys a condition of exactly the same shape: the crease angles have to alternate to a multiple of a straight angle. Two different quantities, two different sheets, one arithmetic — and in both cases what is being said is that a product of reflections came back the right way.
How rare a band that folds is
Almost every crease pattern fails to fold flat, and the usual way of saying so is a count over discrete choices. A glued band fails for a reason that no count can reach: its crease angles have to satisfy an equation, and a set defined by an equation has no volume in the space it sits in.
Half a rim
A rectangle of tessellation cut out of the plane has four edges; glued into a torus it has none. Gluing one pair and leaving the other gives the middle of the scale — the same drawing, the same vertices, the same conditions asked of them, and exactly half the rim. What the rim costs turns out to be measurable per edge rather than only at the ends.
The rim adds up
What one glued pair of a cell's edges saves in free letters is what the other pair saves, and gluing both saves the sum. That is a rate rather than an observation, it is the form of the claim two objects could never support, and it is what makes 'the rim costs four letters a cell' a statement about tessellations rather than about one drawing.
Euler counts the gluing
Vertices minus creases plus panels comes to one on a rectangle of paper and nought on any gluing of it. That is the cheapest check that an identification did what it says, it costs three counts already being made, and it is what found a crease running exactly through the corner of a cell — a case the corner search could not see and no other check would have noticed.
A grid that will not close
Take the simplest crease pattern there is — a square grid — and join a cell of it into a torus. With an even number of squares across it folds. With an odd number it has no flat folded state at all, and the obstruction is a parity that has nothing to do with the pattern being difficult, because a grid is not difficult.
The corrugation that closes on itself
A Miura cell crosses one crease per period in one direction and four in the other. So one of its two directions has a parity condition that half the sizes fail, and the other direction cannot fail at any size — the same sheet, the same drawing, and two gluings that behave completely differently.
One node per panel, with the rim gone
A rectangle of repeating pattern cut out of the plane costs exactly one node of search per panel, on every family and at every size. Take the rim away and the total falls and the cost per panel rises, because the letters that were removed were the ones that could not be wrong.
The turn a column costs
The Yoshimura's drawing repeats every column. Folded flat, it does not: the fold carries one column onto the next by a turn of two hundred and forty degrees, so the folded state repeats every third column and not before. A pattern has two periods and only one of them has ever been written down.
The period nobody measured
Every repeating pattern in this collection has its drawn period recorded, because a drawing cannot be generated without one. Its folded period is recorded nowhere, and on one of the families measured the two differ by a factor of three — which means the number that has always been quoted is the wrong one for anything about the folded object.
Half the slack
Gluing one pair of a cell's edges removes half the free letters and costs almost nothing. Gluing the second pair removes the other half and costs three orders of magnitude. The letters go linearly and the search does not, and the reason is that the last free letter is worth more than all the others.
Which pair is glued
A cell's two cylinders have the same Euler number, the same amount of rim and the same name. On a symmetric drawing they have identical counts of letters, panels and vertices — and searching them costs twenty-four nodes one way and eighty-five the other. Half the rim is a description of the topology and not of the object.
A proof in no nodes at all
A parity refuses a sheet before any search begins. It costs one addition, it is certain, and it says nothing about why — while a search that exhausts on the same sheet costs thousands of nodes and produces a proof of the same fact. Two proofs of one thing, and the cheap one is available only where somebody has noticed the invariant.
The cost of asking the wrong sheet
A test written for a sheet with an edge, run on a sheet without one, does not fail. It exhausts — proving, at three, thirty-five and three thousand four hundred and fifty-five nodes, that no lettering exists — and the letterings it proved impossible fold, on the collection's own machinery, at every size they were tried at.
One population, four sheets
A population of patterns is a way of asking what is typical, and it has always been a population of drawings. Put the same drawings on four different sheets and the verdicts move — not because the drawings changed but because the sheet did, which means a population has two halves and only one of them was ever chosen.
A map with no edges
Counting the ways a rectangular map folds is the oldest open problem in the subject, and every version of it assumes the map has an edge. Join the map's opposite edges and the question changes shape: half the sizes have no folded state at all, and the ones that do have no bottom layer to count from.
The tube a map makes
Join one pair of a map's edges and the result is a tube — a real object, foldable in the hand, and neither the strip's problem nor the torus's. It has one loop that cannot be shrunk instead of two, it keeps its bottom layer because it keeps half its rim, and half its sizes are refused by a parity the flat map does not have.
A tessellation on a cylinder
A twist tessellation has been drawn here as a patch and as a torus, and never as anything in between. Gluing one pair of a cell's edges gives the family its first sheet with exactly two edges — the shape every folded tube actually has, and the only object in the collection that can say whether the rim's cost is linear in how much rim there is.
The seam that is not a symmetry
Gluing a cell's edges looks like a symmetry of the drawing and is not. It is an instruction about which points of the paper are the same point, the drawing has to agree with it along the whole of a glued edge, and a rectangle that is not a period of the pattern does not glue at all — which turns out to be the only real restriction on which cylinders exist.
A metamaterial with no edge
A folded metamaterial's properties are quoted per unit cell, because a material is supposed to be the same everywhere and a cell is supposed to stand for the whole of it. Every cell this collection has measured has been cut out of a patch, with a rim round it — and a rim is the one place a repeating material is not like itself.
A bottom layer on half a rim
The bottom of a folded stack lives at the paper's edge, which is why a sheet with no edge has an order with no least element. A cylinder has half a rim, so it has a bottom — and the count of panels that could be it falls with the rim, which makes the claim a measurement rather than a boundary case.
The arc that arrived twice
Which of two panels a crease calls its near one is decided by the order a face walk happened to number them, and the mirrored record is the same relation. Except on one sheet, where it is not — and that sheet turned out to be the one whose folded state comes back the other way up, which is how a duplicate in a graph became a diagnosis.
The drawing does not say what is glued
One crease pattern, four sheets, four different answers to whether it folds — and nothing in the drawing distinguishes them. The identification is data the picture cannot carry, and the picture is the object this collection has been treating as complete.
A sheet with two edges
Design in this subject starts from a square, and the square's four edges are where every flap ends and every construction begins. A cylinder has two edges instead of four, and what a designer loses turns out to be measurable in the same letters a search counts — and what they gain is that the sheet is what gets manufactured.
The corner premium, with no corners
A square's corners are its most valuable paper: a flap placed there is claimed by a quarter-disc rather than a whole one, so the corner goes four times as far as the middle. A closed sheet has no corners at all, and the accounting that ranks sheet shapes by their corners has nothing left to rank.
A base needs an edge to point at
Every flap of a uniaxial base ends in a point, and every point is made of paper that came from the sheet's boundary. A sheet with no boundary has nowhere for a point to come from, and a sheet with half a boundary can only have points at the half it has left.
A grid glued
Box pleating is the designer's grid: every crease on a line, every angle a right angle or forty-five degrees, and a whole design method built on the convenience of it. Roll the grid into a tube and half the column counts stop folding, on a pattern whose whole selling point is that it always works.
The symmetry a gluing adds
A patch of a tessellation has whatever symmetry its outline allows — a few reflections, a rotation or two. Glue its edges and it acquires translations, and a lettering of the glued sheet has to be invariant under them. That is a much stronger requirement than a lettering of the patch, and it is why one answer covers every patch at once.
A crease with no vertex to belong to
Crease density is measured as length of line per area of paper, and everything else about a crease is measured at the vertex it runs into. A band of paper has creases that run from one edge to the other and meet nothing, so it has density and no vertices at all — and it still refuses to fold.
The sixth thing that is not true
Five idealisations underlie every theorem here and each has had an essay: no thickness, no stretch, creases that are lines, perfect memory, no grain. There is a sixth, it is more basic than any of them, and it is the one nobody has ever thought to name — the paper is a disc.
Two panels that are one panel
Paper cannot pass through paper, and every test for it compares pairs of panels. On a glued sheet two pieces of the drawing can be the same piece of paper — so a test that does not know the identification either reports a collision between a panel and itself, or misses one where the sheet meets itself round the loop.
A mechanism that closes on itself
A rigid-foldable pattern is a mechanism: panels as rigid plates, creases as hinges, and a motion counted by degrees of freedom at each vertex. Close the sheet into a tube and the mechanism has to come back to itself after a circuit — a constraint that is not at any vertex and that the degree-of-freedom count does not see.
The tube that gets built
Every folded structure that leaves a laboratory is a sheet joined to itself — a boom, a stent, a bellows, an airbag, a packed antenna. The mathematics has been done on flat rectangles for the whole history of the subject, and the object is a cylinder, which is a different sheet with different counts and a condition the rectangle does not have.
Thickness round a closed loop
Real panels have thickness, and every technique for accommodating it works by shifting a hinge off the ideal crease by a small amount. On a flat sheet the shifts accumulate outward and end at the edge. On a closed sheet they accumulate round a loop and have to come back to where they started, which is a condition none of the techniques was designed to satisfy.
Which of the seven survive
The seven axioms are the complete list of ways one fold can be specified by aligning marked things. Every one of them names points and lines on a sheet, three of them quietly assume that a line has two sides, and on a closed sheet a line need not — so the list is complete for a disc and shorter for anything else.
A reference on a sheet with no corner
Every construction in this subject begins from the sheet's own boundary: two edges meet at a corner, a corner is a point, and a point is what an axiom takes as input. A cylinder has two circles of edge and no corners at all, so a construction on one has nothing to start from and the seam is not a mark.
Dividing a loop into n
Fujimoto's method divides a strip into any number of equal parts by folding badly and then folding the error in half, over and over. It converges because each step halves what is left over. On a closed loop there is no edge for the leftover to sit against, and what replaces the edge is the loop's own closure.
The proportion a band asks for
√2 is a shape: a rectangle either has it or does not, and what it buys is that halving returns the same shape. √3 is what a Möbius band needs, and it is a different kind of number — a minimum rather than a shape, with every longer strip working and no shorter one.
Found by people not folding paper
The shortest strip that makes a Möbius band has a literature, and it is in differential geometry rather than in origami. The two subjects have the same number, they reached it by completely different routes, and neither of them cites the other — which is the fourth time this collection has found that shape.
A theorem with an unstated hypothesis
Maekawa's and Kawasaki's conditions are quoted everywhere without saying which sheet they are about, and they do not need to be — they are conditions at a point and every point is the same. The two-colouring is quoted the same way and it is not a condition at a point, and the omission there is not harmless.
No format has a gluing
A crease pattern file records vertices, edges, assignments, faces and layer orders. Every one of those is a feature of the paper's interior, and the boundary appears only as a kind of edge — so there is nowhere in the scheme to say that two boundary edges are the same edge, and the sheet a pattern is on cannot be written down.
Nothing grown has a seam
A gut is a tube and a leaf is a disc, and neither was made by joining anything. The sheets this collection builds by identifying a rectangle's edges are the same objects a body grows, reached by an operation no organism performs — and the difference shows up in where the boundary is and in what has to close.
Each drawing has its own threshold
Gluing a cell's edges was measured once, at one size, and found to cost three orders of magnitude — which cannot tell a threshold from a slope, nor say whether a cut sheet has one further out. Swept from one period to five on four tilings, every sheet starts at about a third of a node per free letter and every drawing leaves that behaviour at a size of its own: four periods on the square grid, three on the honeycomb, two on the triangular grid and two on the rhombille, where even the cut sheet crosses.
The route, not the sheet
Every cost measured for a glued sheet has been one number from one branch order, and a backtracking search's cost belongs to the pair. Asked under eight orders instead of one, a cut cell's cost barely moves — 42 to 55 nodes — while the torus over the same drawing runs from 69 to 24,636, with one order giving up entirely. The glued sheet's best order costs less than twice the cut sheet's, so most of what a single order charged to the gluing belongs to the route through it.
The cheapest route crosses later
A search for a consistent lettering has a threshold: below it the letters propagate and the cost is a third of a node per crease, above it the search backtracks and the cost explodes. The threshold was measured with one branch order. Measured with eight, the cheapest route never starts searching before the typical one, and on most sheets it starts a period or two later — so part of every threshold on the record belongs to the route. And the one cut sheet past its threshold, the rhombille's, spreads across nearly three orders of magnitude of cost, which moves the spread off the gluing and onto the threshold.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
BoundaryPeriodicityPatchPanelCrease assignmentUnit cellParitySearch costThe Möbius bandOrientabilityTorusClosure