OK – following on from the previous incarnation, add a half blintz crease (a semi-blinz”?) and extend this through the 22.5 crease at right angles. Form a slightly larger central square base, you get this. Some soft edges form themselves, not shown on the CP. I’d love to know if any of you are actually completing these!
Here is another development of the Flower Form 2 (see earlier blogs this month). This can also be inverted with the point opened into a base to form some kind of sculptural “dish”. The same basic crease pattern as before.
More to come, probably!
Just spotted this little beauty lying within the same crease pattern as the revised flower form 2. I have added another crease (times 4) to sharpen the inner edges and bu**er me, it’s now the same as a minimally creased bird base!
I don’t recognise it, but surely this one is out there somewhere?
In the words of Albert King, I woke up this morning, flattened the top and inverted the model, producing this…
In my former role as BOmag editor and ongoing author, I’m often in a position where I have to choose which models to present. I thought I’d go through some of the decision-making processes, as well as briefly tackling the issue of deciding how good a model really is.
Firstly, I consider the intended audience. Will the design appeal? Is it at the right level of complexity? Are the diagrams accurate? We often prepare diagrams for our own use, or to give to other folders. We are often just giving minimal information of the sequence.
For novices, it’s not safe to assume any skills and diagrams should reflect this. Often, it may require a complete rethink of the sequence. I remember collaring Dave Brill at an early BOS convention and asking him for help with his “ring box” from Kenneway’s “Origami Paperfolding For Fun”, which I was struggling with. I opened the book, but Dave said “Ignore that, it’s not the method I use”!
It took me a while to come to terms with the idea that a model may have several sequences, but as I started to create, the process of diagramming encouraged me to look at every move and seek the most elegant way of folding it. The “sliding” sequence in Fujimoto’s cube adds considerably to the worth of the design, for example. Personal taste comes into play here, but I firmly believe that the way a model was created won’t necessarily represent the best way of folding it. I remember having heated debates by letter with Neil McLean, who felt the creator’s sequence was sacrosanct and all part of the finished model. I remain unconvinced!
I’d suggest you can’t properly assess origami until you’ve folded it. If you’re lucky, you’ll discover folding gems within the sequence, (what Kenneway referred to as “good moves”). I often find more pleasure in folding the models of Hideo Komatsu than I do looking at the finished result, since his sequences are so satisfying.
Despite being adept at “virtual folding” (folding the model in my head, then passing judgement), I find it’s wise to give unpromising models the benefit of the doubt and actually fold them. The diagrams and all-important final illustration may simply not do it justice. Then again, you may find that the most fabulous diagrams result in an undistinguished model! It’s part of the “journey or destination” debate; is the point of folding to the final result, or is it the actual folding, the result being a by-product?
Deciding what you wish to fold isn’t so hard. Identifying models that other people will want to fold is more tricky. OrigamiUSA has a policy of publishing models created by beginners, with the associated naivety you would expect. The Tanteidan apply a more ruthless quality control. The BOS probably lies somewhere in between.
While there are no absolute standards by which a design may be judged, it’s important that the origami world finds a way to encourage quality work and progression without using language that may deter a beginner from taking their first faltering steps towards becoming a creator.
It’s not easy to achieve. One person’s idea of “considered critique” is another’s “diatribe”. Nevertheless, if we don’t have standards, how can we hope to be taken seriously? Paul Jackson, in his fiery youth, thought nothing of dismissing a model as “ugly”. He still does! Others find kind words for anything you show them. They key is to praise what’s praiseworthy (the effort, the idea, the folding standards) but reserve the accolades for the truly great designs which have both a superb sequence and stunning result. We all hope our latest design will become a “classic”, but the chances are it won’t.
I rely on two main sources, Wayne Brown and David Brill, whose opinions I trust implicitly. I urge all creators to find an origami soulmate to provide them with an honest perspective on your work. It’s surely not in the best interests of origami to shy away from criticism, where it’s appropriate and informed.
Here’s something slightly more challenging, a flower form. You’ll guess that some twisting is required and the crease that allows this has a defined and easily spotted location point. It’s also locked into shape. Out of interest, this “vital” crease can be altered to provide flowers that are more open.
Once you’ve identified the location for the shorter crease, you can use a template then reduce the length of the book folds to produce a neater CP. My mentor Wayne reckons this will work as a modular with a little tweaking, but I haven’t found a really stable form yet. Either that or I’m just to clumsy to assemble them. My money is on the latter!
The esteemed David Lister writes to BOSmail (in reference to my boat CP) “It is now acceptable to distinguish mountain and valley folds in crease patterns with differently coloured lines such as red and blue. Were your original diagrams coloured?”.
The answer is no, because I thought it simple enough, but perhaps for this flower, it might be a good idea, plus it’s all good practise!
In creating said coloured lines, I realised I’d been over-complicating the design to no good purpose. Originally, a pinch-mark provided the location and the book folds didn’t extend further then was necessary, but in for a pinch, in for a pound. So here’s a revision, almost indistinguishable when folded, but much cleaner crease-wise.
I have to confess to be largely untroubled by the appeal of crease patterns, but of late have actually been trying a few and finding them curiously stimulating! I feel this is not simply due to the intellectual challenge, but because a central part of my creative process is the sequencing of a model. Basically, when I create, it’s largely intuitive and experimental.
When a completed design emerges, I then need to discover a “good” folding sequence. This should be elegant, satisfying, efficient and above all, teachable. This part of the process involves a great deal of folding/unfolding, looking at how the creases combine and in what order. In essense, the same way I approach a crease patttern challenge.
Needless to say, my simple efforts are not going to cause many sleepless nights to Mr Lang, but perhaps for someone new to CPs, this may give you a toe in the door. Remember, a “good” sequence puts the right creases in the right orientation, so don’t just get a result, work on the folding sequence as well. This will have a bonus result of you learning the model very effectively.
The model itself is a simple sailboat, which happens to be “iso-area” (in its most primitive form!) – one side will be white, the other coloured. It is also “pureland” – only valley or mountain creases required.
The traditional hat-to-boat from a rectangle forms a regular part of my teaching classes. It’s fairly simple, involves some nice “in the air” open & squash folds and makes a superb boat with sail. I also regularly take newspaper with me to deliver the classic “captains shirt” story, which never fails to amuse young and old. There’s some more useful info about the model here.
One method I often employ to reinforce learning of a design is to have students fold it again from paper half the size. They then repeat this process and a friendly “how small can you go” competition often ensues. The boat is perfect for this and you can also introduce the concept of A4 / A5 / A6 etc. if you wish.
The boats also tuck neatly into each other, providing you fold such that a decent sail is produced. I’m sure you know, but the ratio of sail to hull is determined at an earlier stage, when you fold up lower corners.
Folding to the top produces a sail level with the top of the hull. Folding less than this distance produces a sail. Eventually, the hull is tiny and the sail huge. Encourage the students to investigate the possibilities.
A few years ago I discovered a development of the boat, one which I haven’t seen before, although the chances are it’s already “out there”. You perform another “open & squash” move, swinging each end of the hull in opposite directions and you have a fish. Neil Calkin points out in his comments that you can take it at least one stage further, producing a kind of gondola, although this may well be beyond the capabilities of a novice folder. Further iterations will depend on the thickness of your paper!
These ideas further extend the possibilities of this sequence, (providing you don’t tear to form the t-shirt!) allowing you to make “sea” montages by using a large sheet of blue paper, drawing a line to represent the horizon, and adding boats (and birds) above the line, fish below. A sharks fin is easily formed by folding a square in half, try setting this as a creative challenge.
I came up with a module recently (on the day I was invited to the UAE to teach, hence the name). I’ve made diagrams, but that would make life too easy for you all, so here’s a photo showing the nearly completed unit, plus a couple of possibilities from it. The central “diagonals” can easily be removed. Any of the “Sonobe” configurations should be possible. Let me know how you get on with it!
It’s fair to say I’m obsessed with origami dishes / containers. I’m regularly ribbed about it when I volunteer to teach at a meeting (“not another Shen-like Dish Nick?”). However, I’m unrepentant – a man’s gotta fold what…
However, when it comes to containers, nature has us beaten all ways. The egg shell is perhaps natures most perfect container, but seeds of any kind are impressive. I found this chestnut whilst walking in the park yesterday. Not only is the outer shell superbly designed, but the inner seed is a real jewel. This one had two “conkers” within, each a gem of perfection.
So, in all modesty, I thought I’d display them in one of my own containers, Ali’s Dish #2 – a development of Ali’s Dish #1, featured in LaFosse’s “Trash Origami“. Ali is my long-suffering origami-widow who is undoubtedly thrilled to have a model named in her honour.
They’re perhaps not directly comparable, but I hope my quest for simplicity and beauty in origami mirrors evolution in nature. And yes, evolution is real, despite this wonderful tome from late 60’s America – don’t let anyone persuade you otherwise…