Translator: Sanja Srbljinović Čuček Reviewer: Tanya Cushman
I named this model "Childhood."
Like most of my works, it is made out of a single sheet of paper.
Just folded, no cuts or glue.
When I was a child, I always wanted to be a fighter pilot.
Yet 10 years ago, after 25 years of military service,
I retired from the intelligence forces at the rank of lieutenant colonel.
And this was about the time I decided I'm going to be an origami artist.
Now, origami is about the ability
to change a square sheet of paper into almost anything.
It's a rare form of art
in which you add nothing and you take nothing from the paper.
You end with exactly what you started with.
Look at the example of the works of Eric Joisel,
for me, maybe the greatest origami artist who ever lived.
From one paper, he made the pangolin,
and from the other, he made the tree the pangolin stands on.
Unfold this pangolin, and you will get the same square sheet Eric started with.
My first encounter with origami was with this.
At 11 years old, 1977, a classmate went into class holding this,
and at the moment he pulled the tail, the wings flapped,
and just like the butterfly effect,
my life changed.
And this was the exact moment I was hooked on origami,
and ever since, I'm always folding.
Now, my mother was trying every possible workshop there was,
from macramé to stained glass, even painting with ropes,
and from her, I believe I got my artistic side.
My father, well, he was the best handyman ever.
He was capable of dismantling the oven,
take out the heating component, replace it with a new one,
and when he put everything back together,
the oven started to work again, and there was no screw left outside.
From him I got the sense
that if I have a packing knife in one hand and superglue in the other,
I can do anything.
Now, for many years, I was a passive folder,
following instruction from books.
I did try my hand with creating my original models,
but I failed quite miserably, I must say.
I once tried to make a hummingbird and showed it to my wife, and she said:
"Frankly, my dear husband,
this is kind of an ugly head of an elephant."
(Laughter)
So I was afraid to fail again and stopped trying.
But still,
this is partly a collection of original models from my recent years.
So how does a folder become a creator?
My breakthrough was after a mistake.
What you see here is the "Star Puff Tessellation"
by Ralph Conrad.
And when I tried to refold it -
because we origami people, we remember with our fingers -
I got this mutation.
Now, while he has six-point stars in the center,
my variation had hexagonal towers spread all over.
So, annoyed, I called Gilla, the lady who taught me the model,
and I asked her, "What did I do wrong?"
And she said, "You did nothing wrong. You actually made a new tessellation."
That was a moment of revelation for me
because I realized I can easily make more mistakes.
(Laughter)
So my fear of trying to create was over.
Now, at the age of 38, I was promoted to a lieutenant colonel,
and just like any other officer at this rank,
my vision was to become a full colonel.
I was appointed as a unit commander with about 300 soldiers and officers,
and although my day was fully packed with discussions, meetings,
decision-making, drills and exercise,
I realized that the best moment of my day
was when I logged in into my Flickr account
and saw that a 13-year-old from Wisconsin
gave me a star on one of my latest models I just posted.
"Well done, Ilan!" he wrote in the notes,
and I felt so proud.
(Laughter)
Four years later, I sat in front of my commander,
and he told me, quite dryly,
"Garibi, you will never be promoted."
So my stomach clenched, but my face showed nothing of it.
I realized it is time for me to retire.
Now, for an officer in the army, retirement can evoke fear.
It's a major blow to your ego:
you lose your post,
you lose your stature, you lose half of your salary.
Moreover,
high-ranking officers get the impression that anything they say will happen.
Well, they are wrong.
When you retire, if you want anything to happen,
you have to actually do it yourself.
(Laughter)
But for me, the retirement was just like origami:
you get a clean, fresh, square sheet of paper,
and you have endless opportunities.
Now, please look at this slide.
This image shows the other side of the model you just saw before.
And when I saw this other side, I was much more excited than you are
because, first, I designed only the first side,
so I got this side for free, which is always nice:
you make one, you get two.
But more importantly,
I felt so much joy out of the fact that this is my creation - I did this -
and from that joy, I decided that I'm going to be an origami artist.
Now as an officer, we were trained, when we start a new course,
to set a vision, far ahead,
and just like the North Star,
it's just supposed to guide you through your new journey.
But you are not really supposed to reach this vision.
It's only main function is to keep you in the right direction.
But I decided I'm going to set my vision as far and high as possible.
I decided that within 10 years,
I'm going to be no less than the invited guest
of the annual Japanese origami convention.
So how does a folder become an origami artist?
The first step is to create - as many as you can - models,
which I did.
That was the easy part.
Second step on my program was recognition.
I was aiming to get the recognition of the origami world.
Now, origami is about sharing,
so I started to share diagrams of my designs.
I started to attend conventions and teach models through workshops.
I published articles in online magazines.
I did everything I could to become famous in the origami world
and get one step closer to my vision.
But life had other plans for me.
This is the pineapple tessellation
with front light.
Step three on my program was exhibitions.
I started small in the library in my hometown
and then in the city nearby,
but I knew I have to aim higher,
and I have to reach the cultural center of Israel, which is Tel Aviv.
Luckily, my brother knew a guy - this is how it works in Israel.
(Laughter)
So his name was Gal Gaon,
and he just opened a design gallery in Tel Aviv.
And the day we met was the day I appointed him as my mentor,
which he still is until today.
And he explained to me, because I knew nothing about it,
that the design gallery, unlike an art gallery,
is more into useful items,
like a table, a ball, maybe a lamp.
This is the same tessellation you saw before,
but this time with backlight.
This is not a computer-generated image:
it's just paper.
So although paper is totally unuseful to become a table,
it is very suitable to be a lampshade, as you can see the effect of light.
So he asked me if I can design and make four lamps
in two months' time
for the opening of the gallery.
Although I never did it before,
but I knew that I had a packing knife at home
and some superglue,
so I said, "Yes, of course."
And while getting home,
I remembered my father teaching me
that the first tool you took to your hands when you start to make something
is a pencil.
So I drew my program,
and within two months,
I was able to show four lamps such as this.
On the evening of the opening night,
Albi Zerfati, the owner of Aqua Creations,
which is a highly esteemed lighting studio in Israel,
came and was very impressed by the beauty of the lampshades,
and he was smart enough to ignore the craftsmanship of everything beside it,
and he asked me if I wanted to join hands and design a lamp for him,
to be presented five months later in Milan Design Week.
Now, I didn't really know what Milan Design Week means,
but I said, "Yes, of course,"
and five months later,
I was standing by this lamp
in what should be considered as the pinnacle of the design world,
in Milan,
highly proud, but also quite confused.
Because, you see, when you stand in Tel Aviv,
Milan is to the west, but Japan is to the east.
So will this lamp take me any closer to my vision?
What is my vision now?
Just to close a circle -
three years ago, a new Japanese restaurant in Tokyo
decided to decorate the place with those lamps.
But back to Milan,
I decided it is time to embrace a powerful concept,
the concept of "and."
I'm going to be an origami artist "and" a designer.
Now, at a certain point, there will be an unavoidable question.
You will ask me, "Where is the money?"
(Laughter)
"Can you make a living out of origami?"
Now, for the origami world, paper is almost everything.
But for the design world, paper is not so useful.
It's too weak, it's too common, it's too cheap.
But since I'm a designer now, I realized maybe I should redefine what folding is.
Instead of trying to reinforce paper to be strong enough to become a table,
maybe I can fold materials that are used to make tables from.
So I started to research
every possible material that came in a sheet form.
I started with wood because wood is premature paper, after all.
And I realized that if you used thin enough layers of wood,
with the help of laser engraving, I can fold it just like paper.
I also tried my hand with fabric, leather, plastic, cement,
even clay, even glass.
But what about metal?
When I was a kid, I was smaller, thinner and weaker than most,
but I knew, I just knew, that I have superpowers
that will be released when I am in a dire need,
like I'm under an upside-down bus,
and I will suddenly have the power to bend the rods, the metal rods,
and free myself and all the others.
Now, as you can see, I never grew any formidable muscles,
so I realized that if I want to fold metal,
I have to outsmart the metal.
I have to use my wits.
So instead of trying to become stronger than the metal,
all I need to do is to make sure that the crease lines are weaker than me.
So in a way, I'm folding metal with my mind.
This is a nice case of mind over matter, if you think of about it.
I started on a small scale with jewelries.
I never did make any jewelries before,
but you know me by now - I like to stand for a challenge.
Those jewelries that you see,
each of them is hand folded from a single sheet of brass,
based on my paper designs.
On a larger scale, I fold stainless steel
that has a substantial thickness of one millimeter with mirror finishing.
And I fold it only slightly, so you get so many reflections from the surfaces.
My work is kind of invisible
because when you look at it,
you don't see the work itself, you see the reflections.
In a way, it's a kind of cheating
because every time you look at my work,
all you see is yourself from so many angles.
So you have to love that, of course.
(Laughter)
And since I am a guy who likes to stand for a challenge,
finally, after seven years, my mentor asked me to make tables.
Here are some tables, each made from a single sheet of stainless steel,
just folded, using my hands.
(Applause)
We are not finished. Thank you.
Please take a look at the far end of this two-Michelin-star restaurant.
Ten years ago,
I dreamt of becoming the invited guest of the Japanese annual origami convention.
Six years after, I was invited as an artist
to install a commissioned work of metal origami
at the bar of this restaurant.
Now, as we get closer to the bar to see its beauty,
I realized that getting too close to your vision
means it doesn't function as your North Star anymore,
and you have to push it away,
farther away.
Now, I'm the achiever type,
and when I climb a mountain,
I have to make sure it is higher than the one I climbed yesterday,
so it is time for me to find and reach a higher peak to conquer.
I call this model "Adulthood."
Like most of my works, it is made out of a single sheet of paper,
just folded, no cuts or glue.
When I was a child, I always wanted to be a fighter pilot.
Today, I'm a teacher:
I teach origami for industrial designers.
I'm the author of four books about origami and paper puzzles.
I'm a jewelry maker, a designer, and an origami artist.
In 2014, I was the invited guest at the Polish convention;
a year later, in Italy;
in 2017, it was France;
last year, Mexico.
And this is how far a square sheet of paper can take you
if you are fearless, flexible and follow your vision.
So just imagine how far your square sheet of paper can take you.
(Applause)(Cheering)
Thank you.
(Applause)