Kirigami — where it appears
Named by 21 essays across 4 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
The oldest book cuts the paper
The Hiden Senbazuru Orikata of 1797 is the earliest surviving book of recreational paper folding, and its famous connected cranes are made by slitting one sheet into a grid. The founding rule of the modern subject is younger than the tradition it claims to describe.
The star that was cut before it was proved
Fold a sheet into ten wedges, make one straight cut, and a regular five-pointed star falls out. The trick is at least two centuries old and the theorem that any straight-line drawing can be released by one cut is of 1998 — because the traditional method is not the theorem, and works only on shapes with the symmetry the folding imposes.
What one cut buys
A fold moves paper about and cannot change how much of it surrounds a point. A cut can, and that one difference is the whole of what this site's founding rule is worth. Take a wedge out and the sheet closes into a cone; let one in and it has more paper than the plane will accept.
Bought with holes
A Miura-folded sheet gets wider as it is pulled, and by how much depends on its panels and on how far it happens to be folded. A sheet cut into squares joined at their corners does the same thing and holds the value at exactly minus one, everywhere in its motion — the same property, bought with different geometry, and paid for in holes.
One cut short of falling apart
Everything a cut sheet can do is bought out of the material between the end of one cut and the start of the next. That material shrinks to nothing in a straight line as the cuts grow, and the sheet stays in one piece the whole way down — until the instant it does not, and then it is in six.
A cut that removes no paper
Cuts in this subject are graded. Take a wedge out and the angle at a point falls by exactly the wedge; take twice as much and it falls twice as far. A hole is not like that. Its effect on what the sheet can do is the same whether it is a tenth of the paper or a ten-thousandth, and it is the same because it is not a quantity at all.
A cut is a licence
What a cut buys is usually described in words — freedom, release, a shape a fold cannot reach. It can be counted, and the unit is vertices. Cutting one crease of a square twist turns two interior vertices into vertices no theorem applies to, and the share of letterings the pattern admits goes up by a factor of two for each vertex released: exactly, on every cut tried.
A hole is cheap paper
A flap claims every point of paper within its own length of its tip, but only the paper that is actually there — so an edge is half price and a corner a quarter. A hole in the middle of the sheet is more edge, and holding the area fixed, a square with a hole in it is cheaper paper than a solid square at every flap length measured.
A cut is not local
Cutting one crease of a square twist takes its letterings from sixteen mutually unreachable pieces to two. The cut crease is one of the four that were settled when the pattern was drawn — and it takes two others with it, because the vertices it releases were the far ends of those. Even a cut along a crease that was never settled quarters the count.
A hole is an edge
A folder's first fold has to be specified by aligning things that are already there, and what is already there is the sheet's outline. Cut a square hole in the middle and the outline doubles: one round of alignments reaches nine references on a plain square and two hundred and twelve on a holed one — more than the plain square reaches in two rounds.
A notch is not a hole
Remove the same rectangle of paper from the middle of a square and from its edge, and the two sheets are not worth the same. The hole is cheaper paper at every flap length measured — 4.71% cheaper than a plain square of equal area against the notch's 2.58% — because what a cut is worth is rim with paper on both sides of it, and a notch spends one of its four sides on an edge the sheet already had.
A cut that reaches the edge
A ring of paper with three creases running from its hole to its rim satisfies every condition the subject has — vacuously, because it has no interior vertex at all — and cannot be folded: its panels take no two colours and the two routes to one of them end up 1.75 sheet widths apart. One cut from the hole to the edge, crossing no crease and changing no letter, and it folds exactly. The cut removes an adjacency, which is the one thing neither a fold nor an edge can do.
One cut removes one arc
A crease pattern whose letters contradict themselves has, in principle, an obvious smallest repair: cut one crease and the statement it was making goes away. Cut every crease of four tessellation patches in turn — four hundred and seventy-four cuts — and sixteen of them leave a sheet whose panels still land anywhere at all. A cut gives the paper a freedom, and a sheet with a freedom in it has no folded state to order.
A cut is surgery
Two cuts that look identical on the paper do completely different things to the sheet. A slit run inward from the rim changes nothing at all; a closed cut in the middle removes a disc and leaves a sheet carrying a condition it did not have before. What separates them is not the length of the cut or how much paper it removes.
Two holes are two conditions
One hole in a sheet of paper gives one loop that cannot be shrunk and one parity to satisfy. Two holes give two, and they are independent: an arrangement of creases can satisfy the condition round one hole and fail the condition round the other, and the sheet refuses on the strength of the one it failed.
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.
How many wedges the paper allows
A k-pointed folk star is folded into 2k equal wedges and cut once, so the scissors go through 2k thicknesses of the sheet. The geometry is indifferent to k and the paper is not: at a stack a pair of scissors will shear cleanly in one pass, ordinary copier paper takes a three-pointed star and nothing more, and the five-pointed one everybody knows needs washi or thinner.
Which cranes can stay joined
The 1797 book slits a square into a grid and leaves the cranes attached at the interior lattice points, each of which holds four of them at once. Of the sixteen ways to choose which of a three-by-three's four points to leave joined, exactly one leaves the piece in a single object — and it is the one that uses all four. The cutting is very nearly forced rather than chosen.
A slit tip keeps one condition
A cut was priced at a factor of two in the letterings a pattern admits for every interior vertex it releases — exactly, no more and not less — and the price was measured on the square twist. A released vertex is not free. It is a strip a full turn long, and a strip has its own big-little-big lemma: a middle sector smaller than both its neighbours forces the creases either side of it to differ. Across the printed shelf, 81 of the 298 vertices a single slit releases still refuse some of their letterings. On a Miura every slit along a straight crease multiplies the share by three where the ledger says four, and every slit along a zigzag by four. The square twist, on which the price was set, is one of the two patterns where the strip never bites.
An array is priced by its vertices
One slit along a Miura's zigzag crease multiplies the share of letterings that pass every local test by four, and one along a straight crease by three. An array of slits is not the product of those factors. Two slits that meet at a vertex release it once, not twice, and on a small Miura the slits' own factors price correctly exactly the 22 of its 128 arrays in which no two slits touch. What prices every array is the product of each vertex's own share — the ring conditions where nothing was cut, the strip rule wedge by wedge where something was. So the cheapest way to release every vertex is a matching: zigzag slits laid in pairs that never meet, half as many slits as vertices. And the count can be made before anything is cut only on a pattern whose vertices decide independently, which the Yoshimura's do not.
What a loop of creases carries
Multiplying each vertex's own share of letterings gives the exact share for a whole Miura, both twists and a tapered corrugation, and three quarters of a per cent too much for the Yoshimura. The difference has an exact form. The count is the product times a sum over loops in the graph of creases, each loop weighted by the correlations its vertices put on the pairs of creases it uses. A Miura vertex correlates no pair at all, so no loop can carry anything. An equilateral Yoshimura vertex correlates every pair by −1⁄15, and its 27 small triangles take the product down by 0.8 per cent before the larger loops pay a little back. Draw the rows taller than √3 and the big-little-big lemma locks three pairs and frees the rest, no loop closes, and the product is exact.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Boundary vertexBoundaryCrease assignmentParityTwo-colouringThe big-little-big lemmaCountingFlat-foldabilityLocalityPatchSheet shapeAngle deficit