On May 21,  2013, Saadya <[email protected]> wrote:

> José Tomas Buitrago mentions a 1526 engraving by Durer, where the 2 folded 
> letters on Erasmus' desk appear to be of the same construction as in your 
> painting--that is, divided into three parts but not equally. (Presumably this 
> information originates from Joan Sallas who visited Cali, Colombia a few 
> years ago.)

That was pretty hasty & stupid of me—the last part of it anyway; it turns out 
Jose Tomas found this and other early paperfolds through his own independent 
internet research.  Apologies, JTB.  

The engraving in question is this one: 
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/e3/D%C3%BCrer_-_Erasmus_von_Rotterdam.jpg

It’s an important catch: Erasmus was THE “Man of Letters” of his time, and 3 
years later would even publish a manual on letter writing, "Opus de 
conscribendis Epistolis",  that would prove immensely popular in Europe. So to 
represent the man at work Durer pretty much HAD to show some letters on his 
desk; and these are what, to an ordinary viewer, letters looked like. 

One notices that they are of a very similar construction to the ones shown in 
the 1579 painting that Karen Reeds discovered and launched this thread with: 
http://www.bbc.co.uk/arts/yourpaintings/paintings/domenico-giuliani-and-his-servant-205778
 .

 I think that in both cases, the letters in their partially open, non-flat form 
are supposed to be interpreted as having already been read: so that the man 
sitting at the desk is shown to be “in correspondence”—caught in the act of 
doing whatever it is that makes him a great humanist, intellectual etc.  If so, 
the current title for the Italian painting that’s now at the Princeton 
University Art Museum might be slightly off: the seated figure is no doubt 
Dominico Giuliani, but contemporary viewers would more likely have seen the 
servant as belonging to his correspondent. Dominico is dashing off a quick 
letter of reply while the servant waits.

Letter writing was how the threads of the network of humanist culture, 
social-religious reform, and science-technology were pulled together in the 
Renaissance, forming the basis of much of the structure of modernity that we 
occupy today.  (A nice overview of this period in letters is given by Gábor 
Almási in 
http://www.ieg-ego.eu/en/threads/european-networks/intellectual-and-academic-networks/gabor-almasi-humanistic-letter-writing
 ).  It is interesting to think of this activity, which is often light-hearted, 
a diversion, private but sometimes done with an eye to the wider public, which 
builds contacts between strangers, and eventually forms a network of 
intellectuals and an entire cultural environment—how that presages or is being 
reprised now by our own little practice of origami, and the network we are 
building for ourselves.  


On May 21, 2013 Chris Lott <[email protected]> wrote:

>> https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/16726942/DomenicoGiuliani-Reconstruction.jpg
> 
> Thanks for this. I look forward to posting a letter using this fold. I
> feel like I've seen this very fold diagrammed somewhere before, but I
> can't recall or find it...

I sure hope you have seen this fold before Chris, because that might mean the 
conjecture has some basis in historical fact. My reconstruction was based only 
on the visuals of Karen’s painting and on what makes sense, if one wants to 
hide away the written side of a sheet with minimal folds and also fold it so as 
to keep the shape stably closed.  Taking this logic further, if one’s letter 
consisted of multiple sheets, instead of a single fold at the left and top 
margins there would probably have been 2 folds, to ‘roll’ the sheets together, 
before insertion into the pocket.

And if we were doing this in the modern fashion, instead of Step 7, the lower 
edge of the sheet would be stuffed into the pocket past the line of the upper 
margin, and then folded across it, the whole ‘cylinder’ then being flattened at 
the same time; this would lock the bottom into the top.  It would also create a 
“lower margin” fold, which you would see upon opening the letter.  ---Was this 
done too in the 16th century?  Just how modern were they?

The reason this matters, is that simply folding up a letter in some standard 
way, that does not keep itself stably closed and is meant to be held in place 
by an envelope or string—that would not qualify, for me, as origami.  But 
turning a sheet that you’ve written on into its own envelope, making a pocket 
out of one flap and inserting another into it to close or even to lock it—that 
is very much origami in the modern sense.  You are turning a flat sheet INTO 
something. The cleverness of it would have been appreciated, then as now.  And 
it might well have triggered the question in some of these sharp minds of the 
humanist/scientist network: What ELSE can you make, just by folding up a sheet 
of paper? 

So it is a possible inflection-point for the beginnings of origami.

All this is of course speculation. But why leave it there? Surely if this was a 
standard letter-folding/envelope-making practice in Europe (at least for the 
decades we’ve bracketed, 1526-1579), diagrams of some sort should exist in some 
etiquette manual from the period.  And if not in a manual, then certainly the 
letters themselves, even in their open form, will show the crease pattern on 
them, and any writings, addresses, seals etc on the outer side would also give 
clues to the manner of folding.  I don’t know about this Dominico Giuliani, but 
Erasmus as said was possibly the most prolific correspondent of his day.  
Surely some of his actual, physical letters exist in libraries and private 
archives across Europe?  How about it, you historians of culture/science out 
there: can we have an answer to this simple origami question?

Saadya 


-------------
Saadya Sternberg, PhD
Origami Artist & Curator

e:   [email protected]
w:  origami-aesthetics.blogspot.com




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