The fold
How a craneis folded
One 15 cm square, twelve named folds, no glue, no wire, no staples. The sequence a pair of hands makes in the studio, in order.
Every crane starts as one square of 80 gsm recycled paper, fifteen centimetres a side. The paper is the spec, not a suggestion: thinner will not hold the wings open, thicker cracks at the crease.
The sequence is twelve folds and it has names. Fold in half, fold in half again, crease both diagonals, open back to a square, collapse the base. Then the petal fold — twice, once in front, once behind — a reverse fold for the head, the neck up, the tail up, and the wings set last.
Nothing is glued and nothing is stapled. The bird holds its shape because the layers hold each other, and because the wings get a trace of starch so they stand open on a shelf instead of slumping by the following week.
A single crane ships in its own kraft pocket so it does not arrive with a broken neck. Twenty on a string are threaded on waxed cotton, twelve centimetres apart, knotted double-overhand so the string carries its own forty-eight grams across 2.4 metres of cord.