Four Square Sequels

In planning out blog posts, I typically use the rule of thumb that a post should contain between two and four images. If I have five or more images, I try to break the material up into multiple posts, and if I have only one I will usually wait until I have more material. A single image is a still life; when there are more, I can tell a small story. Unfortunately, this means that over time I build up a number of “orphans”, perfectly good results left to gather dust because I have nothing else that is closely related. I recently noticed that several of my orphans were square shaped. Perhaps I could use this to tie some disparate results that normally wouldn’t belong together into the same post.


1) I noticed last year that the tetrakis grid 4- and 5-tans had a combined area that could make a square. This seemed like a pretty basic result that had to have been known years before. I asked (and looked) around, but I couldn’t find any instances of it being found previously. Then in preparing this post, I discovered that I was almost right. It had, in fact, been found months before, by Thimo Rosenkranz. (That page isn’t visibly dated, but a timestamp in the html code indicates it was published in July of 2023.) For all I know, these pieces may have been studied many times previously, but having done the important step of preventing myself from falsely claiming primacy, I am content to leave off further historical research.

2) I claimed that I couldn’t do anything elegant with just the set of single-striped tetrominoes, but shortly after I posted that, I found the figure below. Here, I relaxed the rule that the stripes must form an unbroken line from one edge of a figure to another. Instead the stripes may have a singe-cell gap in order to allow a perpendicular stripe to pass through. A woven pattern, where each stripe crosses one other and allows another to cross it, seemed like the nicest possibility. (The faded dashed lines are artistic license on my part, not actual markings on the pieces.)

3) The pieces here are based on those in my L-Topia puzzle. That puzzle contained every way to mark two cells of an L tetromino with a circular and a square hole. When I had access to a laser cutter in 2009, I made a variation where, instead, the holes were double headed arrows that could point horizontally or vertically. I was recently reconsidering “pilings”, (tilings with overlap) and wondered what could be done with pieces with marking sites where the markings have two possible orientations by symmetry, and the overlaps must match one orientation with the other. My L-Topia variation came to mind, but I had better results with a similar variation, where the arrows would be diagonal instead. Here, instead of cutting out arrow-shaped holes, I cut out triangles on opposite corners, leaving a bar to overlap. There is a unique piling where the overlaps form a single loop joining all of the pieces.

4) At G4G15, I gave a talk on polykings and other polyomino variations where cells are connected in different ways from standard polyominoes. I based the talk on a couple of earlier blog posts, but I did throw in one additional result. One of my usual creative tricks is “mix ideas, even if they aren’t meant to be mixed.” In the context of tiling problems, that can work out to “tile with sets of pieces that aren’t meant to be mixed.” If we build the five tetrominoes with each of the five shortest cell connection types, we get 100 total cells. Why not throw them together into a 10×10 square? In the diagram below, each tetromino form is represented by a different color, while the crosses indicate the directions and magnitudes of the connection vectors.

Problem #64: Well, everything is always nicer if you can make things of the same kind not touch. Here that means both tetrominoes of the same form, and tetrominoes with the same connection type. But asking for both may be too much, so we may have to accept just one or the other. But wait! What exactly do we mean by not touching here? Simply using Wazirwise adjacency seems contrary to the spirit of the thing. Let us say that two pieces touch if the connection type of one of the pieces can reach, from one of its cells, a cell in the other piece.


We might like there to be some theme that we can tease out from these unrelated square tilings that can retroactively justify shoveling them into the same post. If there is, it might be parity of elegance. A square has high elegance, having maximal symmetry in a smooth, convex shell. But as a consequence of this elegance, we don’t have many sizes of squares available, just one for each integer, so we have to contrive somewhat inelegant sets of pieces to tile them. In the case of the striped tetrominoes, the fixed dimensions of the square forced me to fudge the stripe placement rules to get the stripes to fit.

Of course, there is no such thing as parity of elegance in the universe of possible tilings; many very inelegant tilings may be found. What we see is the effect of me selecting the most elegant tilings that I can find to share on my blog. In these cases, the elegance of the square justified less elegance in other aspects of the tilings.

Why L-topia Is Awesome

It’s the holiday shopping season, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to write a post or two on the puzzles I am selling.

Every mathematical puzzle designer worth his or her salt has an argument for their puzzle’s awesomeness using impressive sounding mathematical justifications. This, for L-topia, is mine.

There are 12 pieces in the set. Empirically, 12 is a good number of pieces for a mathematical puzzle. There are 12 pentominoes, and 12 hexiamonds.

The shape of the pieces, an l-tetromino, has some desirable properties. It is very highly tileable. Two factors that affect the tilability of a polyomino are its size and its symmetries. Smaller and less symmetrical polyominoes are the most tilable. The l-tetromino is the smallest asymmetrical polyomino, and the only asymmetrical tetromino, so it should be the most tilable of all.

A set of 12 l-tetrominoes tiles a 6×8 rectangle in 1114 ways. That’s probably the most for any set of 12 copies of a single polyomino tiling any rectangle, but it’s not that impressive compared to other sets containing multiple shapes. For example, the 12 pentominoes can tile a 6×10 rectangle 2339 ways. 

But because the shapes are all the same, if you mark all of them in some way to distinguish them from each other, (as the holes on the L-topia pieces do) every permutation of placements of the 12 l-tetrominoes can create a distinct tiling. Now the total number of tilings is roughly 1114 · 12!. (Actually, it’s slightly less because some of the tilings of the rectangle are symmetrical: about 55 of the 1114 solutions are symmetrical by reflection or 180° rotation, so the total is about 1059 · 12! + 55 · 12! / 2, or about 520 billion.)

Well, that’s a pretty impressive number, but having an impressively large space of possibilities does not, by itself, make for a great puzzle. In this case, however, I do think it is helpful, and I’ll explain why presently.

Suppose I think of a proposition that can apply to any of the holes in the set. For example, that the hole appears in an odd numbered row. Because there are two different kinds of holes, it may be elegant to use either the opposite of that proposition, or some proposition that is complementary in some way, to apply to the second kind of hole; in the problem illustrated by the solution above, we have the round holes in odd rows, and the square holes in odd columns. Suppose the probability of the proposition being true is ½, and suppose that the probability for each hole is independent from the others. (One must take care that the placement of holes on the pieces doesn’t fatally interfere with independence; if, for example, we had asked for circles on odd rows and squares on even rows, there would have been pieces that could not have been placed legally anywhere.) Then the probability that the proposition is true for all of the holes is 1/224. Given this piece of information, we can get an expected number of tilings where the proposition is true by multiplying that probability by the total number of tilings.

The result is about 31,000. That number is tiny compared to the size of the total space of tilings, but I can say from experience that it makes for puzzles that are challenging but solvable. And it gives us wiggle room to use propositions with probabilities that are a little smaller than ½, or for which the probabilities are not entirely independent. The result is that we can come up with a wide variety of propositions to use in designing puzzles with the expectation that they will provide a good puzzle solving experience. L-topia isn’t just a puzzle, it’s a natural puzzle creation kit!

Why L-Topia isn’t awesome, and Agincourt is

Unfortunately, to be perfectly honest, being a “puzzle creation kit” interferes with L-topia’s accessability as a puzzle. Because the circular and square holes have no inherent meaning, but have to have their meanings imposed by a puzzle’s directions, you can’t simply take the pieces out of the box and start solving.

Agincourt, on the other hand, with its 64 squares with an arrow in each, practically begs to be turned into four 4×4 layers with the arrows aligned. Of course, there are other challenges to be found, but the one that literally comes out of the box is both elegant, and has a reasonable level of difficulty. (Some of the L-topia puzzles are better for hardcore puzzle solvers.)

Once again, I have both puzzles available for sale. Order soon for delivery by Christmas!