In Japanese, “ori” means to fold, and “gami” means paper. The trick is to use just a single sheet for each piece. Chatani added the tool of scissors–which, strictly speaking, origami guys don’t go near–and by applying the engineering principles of the pop-up book, he began to fold and snip amazing little structures. This summer, the American Craft Museum in New York City is exhibiting Chatani’s work and that of his disciples (through Sept. 2).
Talk about a universe in a grain of sand! You can tour the globe via the tiny white landmarks on display at the Craft Museum–the unfolding shell-like forms of the Sydney Opera House, the art deco shapes of the Chrysler Building, the complex volumes of the Lloyd’s of London building, the sleek Fuji TV Building in Japan, the spiraling Guggenheim Museum by Frank Lloyd Wright. Upstairs at the museum, by the way, is an exhibition of hefty stained-glass windows from Wright houses–which seem to hang in counterpoint to the wispy paper cutouts of such famous Wright dwellings as Fallingwater and the Robie House as interpreted by the origamic artisans.
Despite their delicacy, these bits of origamic art capture the essence of the strong, solid shapes of architecture. You get a bird’s-eye view of the U.S. Capitol dome or Notre Dame cathedral–with its nooks and crannies and flying buttresses. Making these models looks incredibly daunting. So how hard is it? Each of the small origamic “cards” takes about eight hours to cut, according to Susan Barry, assistant curator at the Crafts Museum. “Almost anyone, with a great deal of patience, can cut out a card of relatively simple design,” she says. But “designing a card takes paper-engineering skills. You must understand how to create depth, structure and dimension from a single sheet of paper through the use of cuts and folds. Very few have emerged who design the cards themselves.”
The work of most of those masters is included in the exhibition. But there’s something about looking at these intricate works that makes you want to get out the paper and scissors and try it yourself–or get your kids into it–if only you had the proper instructions to make the simpler shapes. Chatani has published more than 50 books about origamic architecture in Japan; just one of them, called “Pop-Up Origamic Architecture,” is available to help you at the shop of the American Crafts Museum (phone 212-956-3535, ext. 157, or visit the museum’s Web site, www.americancraftmuseum.org). The shop also sells pop-up greeting cards made on the same principle.
Still, despite the fun of these charming little pop-ups, you wonder why anyone would turn to this form as a way of recreating and studying architecture. The answer is more than just whimsy. In the way that the ancient origami artisans were exulting in the wonders of nature with their birds and flowers made of the simplest material, precisely and reverently folded, Chatani has a philosophical aim. “To realize the value of the land, its history, its monuments large and small, is to realize one’s own value and understand one’s place,” he has said. “Origamic architecture is one of the many ways to nurture and appreciate … architecture and its legacy.” So check out his diminutive vision of the built world, and then try the make some simple pop-ups at home-fold, cut-but don’t mutilate.
