Origami For Kids

We haven’t had a ‘natural history’ post on this Blog for a while, despite its name which I’m still committed to. But this investigation of flowers is triggering various new thoughts on flowers themselves, not just the origami of them; and its time to put these down---while they’re fresh and crude, in fact. Before a guarded professionalism, the curse of the times, withers their innocent bloom. First, though, an old thought. No one seems specially surprised that flowers are delightful, exquisite, turn-ons, ideal objects for gifts, distinct and different and inviting of fine discriminations between them, a joy to multiple sense-organs, and connected more than etymologically with much of what we mean today by being “cultured” or “cultivated.” The question is, why should any of this be. Flowers are basically an invention of insects , who taught the first angiosperms, 125 million years ago, what forms tickle their fancy. Why should what appeals to creepy-crawlers have anything to do with us ...

Not all the flowers I’ve been showing (and others I haven't yet) do I fully understand the mechanisms of. For most I have at least a vague sense of how they work, but some are surprising even to me. That is: while looking in certain obvious directions and playing with various forms I’ve across a few that behave as wanted—they open and close reliably and in interesting ways just by pulling and pushing at two points. That doesn’t mean I necessarily know what’s going on. Of the three principles I mentioned in an earlier post—preliminary fold, Miura and twist—the Miura map fold has perhaps been studied most by physicists and engineers, its pattern having been invented after all by a physicist who wanted a nice reliable way of unfurling and refurling satellite panels in space. Even with this pattern, it seems to me, there is room for further research, and studying pop-up applications is a great way to do it. I’ve echoed the Miura pattern symmetrically across one axis, to take the shape...

These three are activated: Click to watch them bloom. No radically new flowers invented since the last post: instead I've been working on everything that surrounds them--the background card action, the necesary leaves, stems, vases etc; while rapidly trying to figure out how to film these things (my double-chin finally having found its purpose and vocation). Where things are headed: More and more I want the background card to pick up the non-flower elements; and I'd like to purify this so that the card too is origami as far as possible. Recent experiments suggest that very nice pop-ups can be made of just origami corrugation patterns--I mean, dropping the flowers altogether. I'm a little reluctant to go in this direction as there are some VERY talented people out there already doing similar things, who can do a better job of it if they cared to: I mean of course Fernando Sierra , Ray Schamp , Polly Verity , and Christine Edison , to pick a few names at random. One thing I...

Just in time for spring. Click on an image to see what happens. The idea here is (1) the opened flower should have much more than twice the surface area of the closed one; it should not just fan out but expand in all directions as it opens. (2) It must close back reliably the same way. (3) Should be pretty, and look like a flower. (4) If possible, it should change dramatically through different stages as it is opened. (5) The flower must be origami—from a square, no cuts, and glued only to the background card. The only mechanisms I know of so far (but I’m pretty ignorant) that do any of this reliably are the preliminary fold (opens to 4X; & with a variation, to 9X), the Miura fold (opens to an indefinite multiple of X), and twist folds. All of the flowers shown combine these principles to one degree or another.

Having had zero experience of pop-ups till last week, common prudence would suggest not wagging my tongue on this subject at all . But Prudence, Dear, you’ve never really stopped me before, and my tongue hasn’t wagged for a good few months now. It seems to me that thinking about pop-ups sheds a little light on the nature of origami too; so here goes. Some of the magic of both of these ways of manipulating paper is the same: you start with a flat surface, perform a simple action or series of actions and Presto! have a three-dimensional form, or a shape otherwise of visual interest. Moreover—manifestly in pop-ups, but implicitly in origami, the process is reversible. You close the book and the form tucks itself away; or you unfold your glorious insect (heavens no!) and get back the original square. —It suddenly strikes me that this unfoldability may be at the core of the origami rules, don’t cut, don’t glue; and possibly at the heart of the feeling people sometimes have (only reinforced ...

“Not another swan!”, groused John Smith , some 30 years after founding the British Origami Society. “[A]fter all, how many new swans do we really need?…Are there yet more fine horses still waiting to be brought into being?” Did someone say, “Horse”? Hmm…. No. Today we are making a Swan. Sorry, John. This swan does not inflate, I regret to report. It does not shake its wings when you pull its tail. But it will FLOAT—for long enough, anyway, till you fold another one. And you can teach it to a child. Instructions (quick version): Make a stretched bird base, double-rabbit-ear the neck, sink a tail, make a head, upend bottom & tail. Q.E.D. Saadya