Kawasaki's theorem — where it appears
Named by 36 essays across 7 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
Two conditions at a point
Whether a single vertex folds flat is decided completely by two tests — one on the angles, one on the assignment. They are independent, they are easy to check, and together they settle the case entirely.
What a checker cannot check
Every crease pattern on this site is run past four theorems before it is allowed onto a page, and passing all four proves nothing. The gap is not a bug to be closed: it is the NP-hardness result, arriving as a property of a hundred lines of code.
Which polygons twist
Twist tessellations come in three kinds — triangle, square, hexagon — and it is natural to read that as a fact about twists. It is not. A twist can be built around any regular polygon and every one of them folds; what stops at three is the tiling, and the tiling is a fact about the plane.
The name is not the date
Kawasaki's theorem is in Husimi's book ten years before Kawasaki's paper. Maekawa's is Justin's too. The mean gap between a result in this field and the name it is known by is twenty-two years, and it runs in one direction.
The same vertex, found four times
A degree-four vertex with a three-to-one assignment turns up in a buckled cylinder, in a Miura fold, in a Resch tessellation and in a crumpled sheet. It is not a coincidence and it is not influence: the flat-folding conditions are restrictive enough that a small set of vertices is nearly all there is.
A leaf packs by corrugating
A corrugation is the cheapest fold there is — parallel creases, no interior vertex to think about — and a leaf that uses one has to taper it, because a leaf is broad in the middle. Which direction the taper is allowed to run turns out not to be a matter of taste.
Almost every pattern fails
Kawasaki's condition is one equation for each interior vertex, and a drawing satisfies an equation with probability zero. Every pattern on this site folds because it was constructed to, and the fraction that would fold by accident can be measured.
Where the paper stops
Every flat-folding theorem is a statement about a full turn of paper, so a vertex at the edge of the sheet is subject to none of them. Cutting a patch out of a pattern removes conditions rather than preserving them, and a small enough patch has almost none left.
The base that tiles
The waterbomb base is the first thing most people fold and the last thing they think about. Repeat it across a sheet and it becomes a tessellation with two kinds of vertex, an assignment that has to be searched for rather than remembered, and a folded state thirty-two times smaller than the paper.
Where curved creases meet
A curved-crease design looks like a smooth object and its constraints are not smooth. They live at the finitely many points where creases cross, and at each of those the conditions are about the creases' tangent directions — the curvature does not appear in them at all.
The lengths are free
Kawasaki reads angles, Maekawa counts letters, and the big-little-big lemma compares one sector with its neighbours. Not one condition in the subject mentions how long a crease is — so a single vertex is not a pattern but a whole family of them, every member folding, no two folding into the same shape.
The cylinder the pattern chooses
A Yoshimura pattern folds into a tube, and the tube's diameter is not a property of the paper. The course of diamonds has to go round exactly once, so the sheet's width is spent on the circumference the moment the columns are drawn — and what a larger sheet buys is a longer tube, never a fatter one.
Any tiling makes a twist
A twist tessellation is usually drawn, admired and copied. It can be derived instead: hand the construction any tiling of the plane and it returns a crease pattern that folds flat, with the twist polygons' shapes forced by the tiling's own angles and nothing left to choose but how large and how turned.
Where two twists share a pleat
Every twist tessellation the tradition draws has one size of twist, because every tiling it is drawn on has one kind of vertex. Hand the construction a tiling with two, and the pleat between a large twist and a small one turns out to fix their sizes exactly — three to one, and nothing else folds.
Fenced at both ends
The twist angle of a tessellation looks like a free dial, and it is fenced twice. Turn too far and the pleats have no paper left. Turn too little and something stranger happens: every angle condition in the subject goes on holding and the pattern loses its mountain-valley assignment entirely.
The creases a sheet gives itself
A crease pattern drawn at random satisfies the flat-folding condition at essentially none of its vertices. A sheet crumpled at random satisfies it at every single one, on every seed, at every size — and the reason is a tautology that is very easy to miss.
A near miss is nearly as rare
Flat-foldability is a coincidence of measure zero, which is usually where the argument stops. Measure how far a random vertex is from folding rather than whether it does, and the answer is thirty-one degrees a sector — so the tolerance real paper has does not buy back anything at all, and a pattern that nearly folds had to start near one that did.
How little the conditions decide
Local is not global is a statement about sufficiency: every vertex can pass and the sheet still fail. There is a sharper complaint available, and it is about strength. Fix one crease of a tessellation and propagate every condition the subject has to a fixed point: three creases out of a hundred and fifty-eight follow, and sixty-six vertices are still holding more than one answer.
The crease that stops in the middle
A sheet folded flat at random writes a crease pattern that satisfies every condition in the subject, everywhere. Leave one layer behind on each fold — one layer out of a dozen — and it stops writing crease patterns at all: the creases stop in the middle of the paper, and a crease with a loose end is a thing no flat folded sheet can have.
The family the Miura belongs to
Move one vertex of a Miura and the sheet has no rigid folded position at all — which leaves the obvious question unanswered. What else moves? A row of paper reflected in each of a fan of lines is flat-foldable for nothing at all, and whether it also folds rigidly turns out to be a condition on a table of cosines: it has to be a column of numbers times a row of numbers.
Where an error goes
A misplaced crease in a folded sheet has to be paid for somewhere, and this subject has two answers already — the error is folded too, and the hinge is where it ends up. There is a third. In a quadrilateral mesh a mistake in one row has no consequence in that row at all: it is felt by the columns, which is to say by every other row on the sheet.
Crimp it away and ask again
Four conditions decide whether a vertex folds flat, and they decide it exactly at a vertex whose sectors are all different sizes. Everywhere else they over-count: two markings of every tied four-crease vertex, twelve of the degree-six vertex this site prints nine of on one sheet. What decides the case is not a fifth condition but a procedure — fold the smallest sector away and ask the smaller vertex.
The condition that is not flat-foldability
Take away the assumption that one crease family runs straight through every vertex and ask what makes a quadrilateral mesh move. It is not flat-foldability. There is a one-parameter family of meshes, every one of them developable and flat-foldable at every vertex to machine precision, and exactly one member of it folds — the Miura. Slide a single vertex along the ray that keeps every condition exact and the sheet stops moving, first order in the displacement.
The propagation that never had to work
The twist construction carries one equation per edge of its tiling and propagates the twist sizes outward from a seed. On every tiling anybody has drawn a twist on, every one of those equations is satisfied trivially — both ends of an edge read the same two numbers, because a regular polygon has one interior angle. The construction has been running and doing nothing, and the one tiling where it did something is the one whose tiles are not regular.
The sheet remembers
Perfect memory is the fourth idealisation, and the least examined of the four. It is usually read as a complaint that paper will not lie flat again; the large half is the opposite. A sheet folded once is no longer blank, so folding a second model into it is folding the union of two patterns — and a union folds flat only where every new crease meets every old one at a right angle.
The order decides the count
Ask how many mountain-and-valley letterings a vertex admits and the answer looks as though it should depend on the angles. It does not. Three of the four conditions never see an angle at all, and the fourth asks only which sector is smallest — so the count is a function of a combinatorial arrangement, and a walk round the cycle that never looks at a vertex reproduces it exactly.
The vertices nobody checks
Every figure on this site is gated on four conditions evaluated at every interior vertex, and the word interior has been carrying the whole sentence. On the printed patterns there are 105 vertices on the edge of the paper against 92 inside it, not one of them has ever been examined, and the condition that decides them has been available since the second phase of the collection.
The loop a vertex cannot close
A crease pattern's letters can contradict themselves, and the contradiction is never local. Enumerate every mountain-valley labelling of a single interior vertex at degree four, six and eight — a hundred and fifty pass every condition the subject has — and not one of them sends its panels round in a circle. The one labelling that would is refused by Maekawa, alone: Kawasaki holds on it and so does the big-little-big lemma.
The first thing about layers
A folder is taught four conditions at a vertex, or is taught nothing at all, and neither one says anything about the layers — which is where most of what goes wrong actually goes wrong. There has never been a rule about layer order simple enough to teach, because the question is global and every answer to it was a search. A chain of panels whose arrows all point the same way is the first one that fits on a finger.
Which condition does the refusing
A search for a lettering carries five conditions: developability, Kawasaki, Maekawa, the big-little-big lemma, and the demand that the arcs the letters force have no circle in them. Run it on five tessellation patches and count what makes it take a letter back. The four everybody checks refuse nothing at all. Every single backtrack is the fifth.
The order that is its own mirror
Trying a mountain first and trying a valley first are two different searches, and on a hundred and forty-two crease patterns they cost the same number of steps — not on average, not nearly, but identically, pattern for pattern. The reason is a symmetry of every condition the subject has, and it is four lines long.
The lettering that was proved impossible
A search closed its whole tree on a glued square tessellation and reported that no mountain-and-valley assignment of it is consistent. Written onto ordinary patches of one, four and nine periods and handed to the four vertex theorems and a folded sheet rebuilt from scratch, the assignment it says cannot exist passes every check, on four tilings, up to fifteen hundred creases.
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.
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.
Closing the loops is not folding
The twist construction propagates one equation along every edge of a tiling, and it can only work where the equations agree round every loop. Asked which irregular tilings pass, a linear map gives a clean answer: the square grid, the triangular grid and the honeycomb pass under every shear and stretch tried, because each edge has a half-turn symmetry that makes its equation exactly one at both ends, and a half-turn survives any linear map. The rhombille passes only as drawn. But passing is not folding. On every one of those images — including the ones whose loops close exactly — the construction produces a pattern that fails the angle condition at every turn tried. The loops were a necessary condition all along, and the construction needs something the tilings' images do not give it.
One number where the corners wanted four
The twist construction gives a vertex a single side distance, and every account of these patterns does the same — it is what rotate-and-shrink means. The conditions never asked for it. Written out, the corner condition is one linear equation per pleat crease in the distances taken one per edge, so a degree-four vertex carries four unknowns against two independent equations. Given them back, the twelve sheared and stretched tilings that refused to fold all fold.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Maekawa's theoremThe big-little-big lemmaAssignmentNecessary conditionTessellationTwistVertex degreeClosureLayer orderingPleatTilingGenericity