Researching tessellations, I stumbled across a paper, written by Helena Verrill (Queens University, Kingston, Canada) that generally introduced the concept and looked at a number of common tiling patterns, but the first CP is one I had not seen before:
I did a small tester and loved (fluked) the collapse, and decided to scale up to a full A3 sheet, starting with a square grid. Then nested adjacent squares are layed in on diagonals to provide odd inverse hinges.
I am quite happy with this, and if more ambitious, I would fold it much smaller on a larger sheet – it would make amazing dragon skin.
One of the interesting things about being associated with “Pinterest” is that their algorithms continually look for stuff it thinks will interest you. Given I only browse Origami, I get some interesting leads. I saw a triangle-based tessellation/corrugation and did a little digging:
Seems Ron Resch, in the early 1970’s, was heavily into paper-based corrugation and this design emerged around then. The basis of this fold is 2 triangle grids, one at twice the scale of the other, offset at 30 degrees to the other. It took me a couple of failed attempts to get the crease layout to work but in retrospect is is much simpler than it seems.
A Masu (or box) was traditionally square and used to measure rice in Japanese kitchens. These days, masu are typically used to sip Sake out of:
Having mastered David Brill’s Square Masu, I thought it time to try the pentagonal one. Apparently the pentagonal masu exists only in Origami circles – this makes sense as the woodworking skill necessary to make this in timber breaks my brain.
Page division into 6ths (to allow overlap/join) then gentle faceting and a magic corner hinge joint results in a lovely 3d shape that feels like it has volume.
I used thickish paper and found some of the internal collapses tough work to make them behave and sit tidily but overall it is a fin fold because you really have to think through how it works before trying the collapse.
Assignment time can sometimes be boring for a teacher, especially when kids are beavering away independently:
This is a tessellation I have not tried before. Based on a square grid, diagonal squares rotate 45 degrees to lie flat again, causing pleat ripples that are cancelled out by adjacent twists – clever. Continue reading →
This torturous little bugger of a tessellation seemed to eat paper like nothing else:
Shuzo Fujimoto’s design of a clover-like tessellation that spreads from a central point is an interesting exercise in layer rearrangement, resulting in a lovely eye-popping pyramid-like structure that has dimensionality. The resultant folded form is much less than a 1/4 the size of the original sheet and is very dense in places and is naturally concave on the underside. Continue reading →
Another time sponge, based on a square grid initially that was torturous to fold and pre-crease. Based on Eric Gjerde’s tessellation molecule, it is an amazing use of paper that features largely an “all at once” collapse.
Many tessellations sit flat while you do them, their interim stages are still flat – not this mongrel. Once you start, you gotta finish and then work out how to flatten – interesting but not very portable in the end. Continue reading →
I spend a lot of time waiting for students to ask for assistance during practical assignment lessons. This is a good thing – if they do not ask and are skilled enough to work independently then I have done the right thing, so it is all grist for the mill. (When kids need help but do nothing about it is much less good, but again a choice the student makes):
This is my first attempt (and probably last) at Eric Gjerde’s “Stacked Triangles” tessellation, based on a triangle grid that had a 6mm spacing. Continue reading →
After some fiddling, and diagramming (hopefully for the Sydney Folders Convention book) I am happy with the component parts of this original model:
The sock and buskin are two ancient symbols of comedy and tragedy. In Greek theatre, actors in tragic roles wore a boot called a buskin (Latin cothurnus) that elevated them above the other actors. The actors with comedic roles only wore a thin soled shoe called a sock (Latin soccus).
Melpomene, the muse of tragedy, is often depicted holding the tragic mask and wearing buskins. Thalia, the muse of comedy, is similarly associated with the mask of comedy and comic’s socks. Some people refer to the masks themselves as “Sock and Buskin”.
Inspired by face work on Eric Joisel’s Dwarf series, a single piece of paper becomes BOTH comedy and Tragedy – happy with the result.