Have A Heart

The heart is yet another type of origami design. As I explained in my original origami post, origami is the word we use for paper folding regardless of the culture the design is from. The heart is now a universal symbol of affection, in Japan and elsewhere.

Numerous types of origami hearts exist. There’s nothing wrong with just using the design one prefers for the right color, look, and feel. It’s all a matter of personal choice.

The following include a couple of examples of how-to instructions for origami hearts. For blog purposes, they need to be a little small, so… I’m also placing a YouTube video providing detailed instructions. 120,000 views can’t be wrong, so there you go. ^^ – J

薔薇　（ばら、bara): Rose

Well, an origami rose does not smell just as sweet… though with the scent-free environments dominating schools more and more, this might be a good thing? At any rate, this post is about pretty origami roses.

The designs you see here are Kawasaki Roses, after which a film was named; the film’s secrets were complex and revealed only by peeling away later after layer. If you want to know why it was named the Kawasaki Rose, that’s because a dude named Kawasaki invented the method. Simple.

Now, I’m just a fan, I don’t actually buy paper and fold these, so I’m going to be linking to a couple of videos which are made by people who actually do this well.

So, enjoy the pretty pictures and pursue this as much as you feel like.

Ooh. Purple.

Lovely variety, and all it takes is differently colored paper.

“A blue rose” is an English idiom for something that is impossible in nature. Besides origami, you can dip a rose in blue dye or, in more recent times, genetically engineer one. Of these methods, origami seems the most sane.

And now, the video!

This one’s in HD, for people who care about that.

And that’s all! Thanks. – J

A Goodwill Gesture

Readers may recall my post on origami and how origami gained international exposure when a victim of the nuclear bombings of Japan set out to fold 1,000 for the sake of other victims before she perished. Here, we have a Canadian 8 year old boy folding 1,000 for donations of $2 apiece to send a total of $2000 to Japan for victims of the earthquake and tsunami. (Story at link.)

Dartmouth has the same relationship to the capitol of my province of Nova Scotia as Yokohama has to Tokyo. The story references a tradition that 1,000 in a year will make a wish come true. I’m not sure if that started with the aforementioned nuclear weapon victim, but either way, it’s in Japanese (and world) culture now.

There’s a Facebook page for this, and this is for donations to the Canadian Red Cross for Japan. I include the links for completeness. I have no personal connection to either effort, but I wholly wish them well.

折り紙

The word “origami” is formed of the verb 折る (oru), in an infinitive form, and 紙 (kami), turned to “gami” as the second part of a compound word. I maintain that such pronunciation changes exist simply to make it easier to say, i.e. less of a tongue-twister. Thus, origami quite literally reads like folding paper. As in, the act of folding paper, not paper for folding in and if itself.

To state the obvious, it’s hard to have the folding of paper without paper. The Asian history of paper goes back quite far, but according to various sources, what we now call origami (but which was known by a variety of other words) was a Japanese folk art in the 17th century. This would place it in the era of peace and unification that followed the Sengoku Jidai.

In other words, it is likely only during the relative economic prosperity that marked this period (but which later stagnated) that the common person gained access to paper. We know that it was during this period that literacy and writing became a popular affair (i.e. that spread through the general population).

Stories of paper art go back much further, but these were upper class affairs. The famous mystic Abe no Seimei was said to have transformed a paper bird into a real one. Paper was used for religious ceremonies following its introduction in Japan by a Buddhist monk in the 6th century; of course, the high cost of paper largely confined its use to religious ceremony. Centuries later, paper was being used for formal wedding celebrations.

Japan was not always a wealthy country. Many things which are now considered priceless pieces of culture were considered… pathetic pieces of inferior, non-Chinese culture in times long past. In addition, Japan did not have much gold historically. This inspired much of Japan’s cultural search for value in simpler things. If it had seemingly limitless wealth, like the center of the Chinese Empire, this likely would not have been felt necessary.

As a result, paper art became a prized gift exchanged between samurai. Paper was still exclusive enough, and art itself valued highly enough, and samurai not inherently wealthy enough, that this was a thoughtful and appropriate gift. If it is the thought that counts, the thought was one greatly appreciated, since the key feature in origami is not so much the results, which while intricate, are by necessity limited by what you can do with paper; the value is in the time you put into it.

Modern German Roots

Folding paper as something to occupy children with was actually a key feature of the Kindergarten Movement, led by Friedrich Fröbel. Like in Japan, the folding of paper was a folk art in Germany (as well as Spain and China). It is from he that we have the use of colored paper for origami today.

It’s not really that complicated. His view was that the colors helped children focus on the matter, but that the folding of paper, in and of itself, helped young children develop mentally and in terms of eye-hand development too.

As Wikipedia relates to us,

Josef Albers, the father of modern color theory and minimalistic art, taught origami and paper folding in the 1920s and 30s at the famous Bahaus design school. His methods, which involved sheets of round paper that were folded into spirals and curved shapes, have influenced modern origami artists like Kunihiko Kasahara.

So in other words, what we call origami isn’t purely Japanese at all; it’s just that, as a worldwide phenomenon, it incorporates Japanese ideas in addition to German ones.

The Crane

In Japan, the 鶴 (つる, tsuru, crane) is an auspicious bird (i.e. it brings good fortune). Certainly the crane is a beautiful and serene bird. Thanks to this, the crane is a core feature of origami in Japanese folk art (older and modern).

Because of its adoption by child survivors of the atomic bombs dropped on Japan, the origami crane has been transformed into a symbol of world peace. (Not that, mind you, we have had any, but of the desire for world peace.)

So, this is certainly one aspect of Japanese culture that has influenced the development of what we call origami.

Conclusion: Japanese + International

So, origami is both Japanese and something that is international culture. (After all, we’ve all heard of paper tigers, right? That’s Chinese.) It can be simple and intricate, or far more elaborate if people choose. Art is, ultimately, a human endeavor; it is our choices that make it what it is.

That is why it has value that cannot be represented in dollars or gold strips. – J