Polynesian Pop Vegas - Part 2: The Golden Tiki.

July 21, 2026 by Dave Gottwald

Frankie’s Tiki Room was the lone Vegas Polynesian Pop mecca for nearly a decade. Then The Golden Tiki arrived in the city’s Chinatown during the summer of 2015. Located in a small strip mall called The Center at Spring Mountain, the bar replaced an establishment called Little Macau.

Founded by former Hard Rock Hotel creative director Branden Powers, Golden Tiki was heavily inspired by Disneyland. It represents a step forward in themed immersion, more like the classic tiki temples of mid-century like the Aku Aku than Frankie’s. Yet with a contemporary twist and a wink and a nod to popular culture.

Case in point are the carved shields out front. The art is playful rather than attempting to channel legitimate South Seas vibes. In the center is the Golden Tiki mascot.

There is a mixture of signage outside, like this strange arrowhead form with Western wood typography. Like Frankie’s, Golden Tiki is open 24 hours and you can gamble.

Because it’s located within a strip mall, the bar still sports the standard fin that all the business tenants of The Center at Spring Mountain use.

The carvings on the door handle pulls look like the more traditional figures found at places like Trader Vic’s, even though they, too, are Americanized pop interpretations. This is one of the interesting aspects of tiki theming. Something can be called classic or traditional, and it’s referring to tiki’s own mid-century past rather than anything actual authentic to Pacific Islander culture.

Immediately upon entry, the Chinatown of Las Vegas disappears behind me. Themed environments are famous for transitions, liminal spaces, and thresholds. This is what Golden Tiki calls a “secret lava rock cave entrance with waterfall.” It noticeably cooler than the night desert air. I can feel the humidity of the water trickling down. The lighting effects shimmer. I almost feel and hear a slight breeze. I’m transported.

To the right as I walk in is a Tropical Trading Outpost, one of the many tropes of Polynesian Pop. Again begun by Trader Vic’s, there were many, many tiki bars using a Trader moniker, including Trader Dick’s, Traders Inn, Trader Ku's, and most recently the Disneyland Resort’s own Trader Sam’s (2011). A hand-painted sign reads BUY-SELL-HOCK-TRADE and there are various crates and cages filled with antique and vintage bric-a-brac, including the Central American idol from Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981).

As is customary, there is always a tiki or two at the foyer to greet us. A total of twenty-four carvings like this one were executed by Bosko, who had done the same for both Taboo Cove and Frankie’s.

Immediately I can tell this is quite the cut above any tiki bar I’d yet seen in Las Vegas. The amount of detail is simply stunning. The central bar is roofed in thatch, common enough, bur everything is deliciously backlit. This is a space to drink in just as much as the cocktails.

Around to the left are some booths enclosed by fort-like bamboo structures. Again, this is common in Polynesian Pop environments. The design provides a measure of intimacy but also a sense of inhabitation, like we are living on a tropical island in a makeshift assemblage of our own creation. Perhaps we were shipwrecked here.

Just to the right of that along the wall is a series of cartoonish clamshells from which water cascades. The bar calls these, tongue firmly in cheek, Seamen Falls.

Walking around, I notice that Golden Tiki is a series of four interlocking lounge spaces that each carry an individual yet related theme.

For example, this is The Pirates Lair, which deeply channels Disney lore. There is an Audio-Animatronic figure above at the left (not sure if it’s a replica or an actual retired park attraction figure). The amount of propping, especially above my head, is impressive. I love that every space has multiple levels of detail, like this shelf above the booth areas carrying a painting and a skeleton locked up in a jail cell.

Everywhere you turn, the theme shifts slightly. But if you’re a fan of tiki in general, and the Disney parks more specifically, there are many not-so-hidden tributes to take in.

Along the wall to the right side as you enter The Golden Tiki is a series of typical A-frame thatch hut seating areas which are meticulously decorated. Though these date back to mid-century tiki establishments, the contemporary version of the trope is far more involved.

The lighting, in particular, is exquisite.

Each hut features a unique wall carving.

Again, these are more playful than authentic.

This one especially reminds me of Rolly Crump’s work on the original Walt Disney’s Enchanted Tiki Room.

Coming around to the rear corner of the central bar I notice another skeleton. There are several of them sprinkled throughout, often to humorous effect, which of course suggests to me Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean.

And just above I notice something else. Even more Disney magic. There is an LED starfield embedded in the black ceiling, and periodically fiber optic fireworks erupt. The loop is long and the effect is subtle. You have to look up for a while to catch them.

A different Bosko tiki god guards each corner of the bar, along with a ship’s bell to announce things like a special drink order or last call. The torches, which appears to be LED, flicker realistically.

While I’m gazing starward, I notice a number of round lamps. They are based on another tiki trope dating back to the first Don the Beachcomber bar in Los Angeles which was later adopted by Victor Bergeron for his Trader Vic’s chain—the glass Japanese fishing float, called buoy balls (ukidama, 浮き玉) or glass balls (bindama, ビン玉). These were used as tropical decor, and during the tiki revival morphed into colorful light sources.

What’s clever here is how they’ve been installed. Many tiki establishments hang such lamps from a simple wood lattice structure. But here a small fishing boat has been hung upside down as their enclosure. It’s moments like these that remind me that the theming at Golden Tiki is meant to be immersive, but not necessarily realistic. There is a playful level of abstraction at work as well.

In such a fantasy setting, not unlike a film, cultural appropriation, misattribution, and/or stereotyping is not much of a concern. For example, the bar’s DJ booth is lined with skulls mounted on spikes in reference to the Jungle Headhunter trope.

The hallway leading to the restrooms at the rear of Golden Tiki is lined with bamboo-framed rattan and decorated with artworks and props.

Along with a mixture of weapons and other genuine artifacts are literary references like to the Monkey’s Paw.

Most stunning is the glass vitrine containing only some of the 250 custom shrunken heads created for Golden Tiki by Wyoming-based artist Terry Barr.

The ones in this case pay tribute to many famous figures of classic Polynesian Pop and its contemporary revival. I spot Bob Van Oosting and Leroy Schmaltz of Oceanic Arts which for 65 years was the leading California purveyor of tiki carvings and decor. Then there’s SHAG (aka Josh Agle), an illustrator and painter of mid-century style who has executed many works in the exotica genre, including many commissions for Disney. Speaking of, also sitting in the case is Disney Imagineer Bob Gurr, the last original one, as of 2026, still alive who personally worked with Walt Disney on Disneyland.

I see Vic Bergeron, founder of Trader Vic’s, representing the old guard. And Sven Kirsten and Otto Von Stroheim, tiki historians, as well Holden Westland, founder of Tiki Farm, the world’s largest current supplier of custom tiki mugs, symbolizing the current one.

A few shrunken heads I couldn’t place. But some were quite incongruous, like David Bowie as Gareth from the 1986 fantasy film Labyrinth.

Like any good themed space, the transition from the restrooms hallway back into the main bar area is a well-defined threshold moment of materials and lighting.

The last small Disney touch at Golden Tiki is the presence of Audio-Animatronic birds overhead which reference the Enchanted Tiki Room.

Like the pirate, I can’t tell if these are actual retired figures from the park or credible replicas. But when they came to life from time to time I was charmed.

The Golden Tiki is a perfect example of the twenty-first century tiki bar revival, with its references to classic establishments of Polynesian Pop. Yet also a melange of theme park elements, numerous props and elaborate decor, and an atmosphere augmented by evocative lighting and special effects.

In 2024 the bar celebrated pouring a half million Mai Tai cocktails, in 2025 its tenth anniversary, and shows no sign of slowing down. I’ve visited three times so far, and I am sure to return for an evening of tiki-themed immersion in the future.

Continued in Part 3.

Polynesian Pop Vegas - Part 1: Frankie's Tiki Room.

July 03, 2026 by Dave Gottwald

It’s been five years since I’ve posted about Las Vegas. I last visited during the summer of 2022 for four nights, but that was purely for fun. So when I saw that this year’s University & College Designers Association (UCDA) Education Summit was in town this past May, I jumped at the chance to present. Because I was scheduled for four talks, the conference kept me busy for most of the week. So I decided to narrow my focus and take some deeper dives into the diverse types of theming that Vegas has to offer. One of them being the city’s tiki bars.

Tiki, or as it’s sometimes called by scholars, Polynesian Pop, was one of the themed topic areas of my MFA thesis, and I blogged about it in graduate school way back in 2008. Since then I’ve visited tiki bars all over the world, from Tokyo to Dubai, but by far most of my stops have been in the United States.

Early Vegas Tiki and the Aku Aku

Sin City’s most famous historical Polynesian restaurant was the Aku Aku at the Stardust Casino and Hotel (1960–1980) that was named for Thor Heyerdahl’s 1957 book Aku-Aku: The Secret of Easter Island. Heyerdahl was a Norwegian zoologist and ethnographer whose stories of South Seas research in The Kon-Tiki Expedition (1948) gave birth to the popular use of the word “tiki.” Several bars and restaurants bearing the Kon Tiki name flourished during the 1950s and 1960s. So it was with Aku Aku.

South Seas theming had appeared like an oasis in the Nevada desert a bit earlier with the 1957 openings of the Bali Hai, a budget-friendly, drive-up motel, and the Tropicana Hotel and Casino. But Bali Hai lacked a restaurant and the Tropicana was more broadly, well, tropical in orientation, calling itself “The Tiffany of the Strip” with much attention focused on the Folies Bergere Paris showgirl revue.

Vintage advertisement for the recently opened Aku Aku, 1960.

When Aku Aku arrived three years later at the Stardust, it thus billed itself as the Polynesian dining trend so popular in Southern California just now arriving. AT LONG LAST! — in LAS VEGAS!

Eli Hedley working on one of his giant Moai carvings.

Aku Aku (which reportedly originally seated seven hundred guests and was staffed with a twelve cooks and two dozen servers) actually had a direct connection to theming’s family tree. Some of its exterior statuary and decor were provided by Weldon “Eli” Hedley (1903–1981), a man known as the Original Beachcomber. Hedley had performed similar services for other South Seas establishments in Southern California as well as the famous Lake Tahoe Polynesian restaurants Trader Dick’s and Harvey’s.

1969 Aku Aku menu cover featuring Hedley’s Moai as the primary icon. Courtesy Los Angeles Public Library.

He was specifically tapped to carve the fifteen-foot black rock Moai (Easter Island) statuary out front, one of which has survived at Sunset Park in southeast Las Vegas on an island at its duck pond.

One of Eli Hedley’s three retail stands in Adventureland.

According to the Van Eaton Galleries auction catalog for The Story of Disneyland (2015), Walt Disney had personally hired Hedley to add theming to Adventureland and let him have a concession in the park known as Tiki’s Tropical Traders and later The Island Trade Store:

In exchange for carving early Adventureland tikis and offering general scenic decor, Hedley was given the shop space rent free. Walt negotiated the lucrative arrangement personally. The fine tradition of offering rubber snakes, glowing skulls and shrunken heads to young adventurers continues to this day in approximately the same location as [the] 1950s original.

Another of them right next door to the Jungle Cruise.

Prolific Disney parks researcher and writer David Koenig clarifies further in The 55ers: The Pioneers Who Settled Disneyland (2019) that Hedley actually had more than one concession within Adventureland:

Walt hired him to carve a towering tiki for just inside the entrance to Adventureland. Hedley soon found himself operating two spaces inside the Bazaar, one selling tropical trinkets such as tiny tikis, the other selling island-themed jewelry. He later expanded to a third space in the Bazaar.

When asked to provide carving work for the Aku Aku, the story goes that Walt Disney agreed as long as he kept crafting pieces for Adventureland on a farm property across from the park on Katella Avenue and manning his concessions during the day, at night he was free to take on the Stardust contract. From the pages of Liquid Vacation (2013):

Because of the deal with Disney, the sculpting of these monoliths presnted the unique problem of getting the raw materials to a place where Hedley could work on them. The problem was solved when the Stardust commissioned the mining of three thirty-foot blocks of volcanic featherstone from a quarry in northern Nevada and had them delivered to the farm. The finished Moai statues were then shipped to Las Vegas.

So yes, the Aku Aku’s statuary was crafted across the street from Disneyland after hours by a man who helped decorate Adventureland for Walt.

The restaurant’s bar, known as the Aku Aku Room, served a cocktail menu created by another famed bar owner of Polynesian Pop, Donn Beach (1907–1989), founder of the Don the Beachcomber franchise. Though the Grand Opening was quickly marred by a kitchen fire that destroyed its interior, Beach continued to consult on its rebuild. He once claimed that he was paid for his services by the mobsters who ran the Stardust with two brown paper bags each filled with $50,000 cash (that’s over one million dollars today).

The Aku Aku featured native carvings and some tiki modernesque interior design work by Hawaiian artisan Edward “Mick” Brownlee (1929–2013), perhaps at the recommendation of Beach, with whom he had worked before. Along with strand upon strand of glass Japanese fishing floats arranged like abstract curtains.

1969 Aku Aku menu back page. Courtesy Los Angeles Public Library.

In a declaration common at the time, at the back of the Aku Aku’s menu the establishment boasted how authentic its food and decor was, specifically mentioning Brownlee “of the Honolulu Art Academy, an authority on Melanesian, Micronesian and Polynesian artifacts.” Brownlee, of course, was white, a native of Portland, Oregon.

Aku AKu menu cover from the early sixties.

However “authentic” mid-century Polynesian Pop restaurants and bars claimed to be, the fact is that this design aesthetic was pointedly a middle class, suburban phenomenon completely detached from the actual native cultures of the South Seas. Even when dressed in foreign garb, as with the man in the turban on the menu cover above, the persons depicted were always caucasian.

1969 Aku Aku menu inside cover. Courtesy Los Angeles Public Library.

That is, except for native girls, which often had darker skin to emphasize and eroticize their supposed exotic looks.

The establishment was iconic enough to be briefly re-created (quite inaccurately) inside The Riviera for a scene in the Martin Scorsese film Casino (1995).

Aku Aku interior entrance, circa 1974. Courtesy UNLV Special Collections and Archives.

The actual interior entrance from the casino floor was a broad railed ramp flanked by two large carved tikis, neither of which were Moai. And although there was a backlit sign above the threshold featuring a single graphic of one, there was no green neon.

The exterior entry from the parking lot was even more outlandish, following the A-frame Polynesian supper club and bar design conventions of the time. Notice Eli Hedley’s large Moai carvings to the left and right.

The one at the parking lot’s edge, however, was massive. More than a couple stories tall. The 1969 photograph on the right is from a 2000s Stardust room key and it really shows the scale of this Moai carving.

Don the Beachcomber, early sixties. Courtesy UNLV Special Collections and Archives.

The popularity of the Aku Aku set off a tiki boom of sorts. In 1962, Don Beach opened a franchise location at the Sahara Hotel and Casino.

The Castaways, late sixties. Courtesy UNLV Special Collections and Archives.

Then a year later the Sans Souci Hotel, which opened in 1955, was re-themed as The Castaways, and remained the longest Polynesian Pop presence on The Strip until 1987 when it was demolished to make way for the Mirage.

For me the Aku Aku’s most historic and charming aspect is that while dating and pondering engagement, my mother and father dined there on May 4, 1973 with my father’s parents. You can see my grandmother’s drained mai tai glass along with a couple empty daiquiris and devoured baby Hawaiian barbecued spare ribs on the table in the foreground. In seven short years the bar and restaurant would be no more.

1969 Aku Aku menu. Courtesy Los Angeles Public Library.

Here you can see the appetizer or “pu-pu” list they ordered from. Pu pu is indeed a Hawaiian word which means hors dʻoeuvres. I can’t say what they cost when my parents dined there, but based on the 1969 price quoted about, those spareribs [sic] would set you back nearly $27 today.

Where my parents likely sat (window portal highlighted with stroke).

I’ve tried to ascertain where my parents were sitting for their meal, but it appears to be behind one of these rectangular portals. All of the photographs I’ve been able to locate are from the 1960s, and I’m not sure how much remodeling had been done by 1973.

Entrance to Taboo Cove, the Venetian Resort and Casino

Attempts at a Revival

Tiki would not return to the Las Vegas Strip until 2001 with the opening of Taboo Cove at the Venetian Resort and Casino. The first new properly themed tiki bar to open in the United States since the early 1970s, Taboo Cove was designed and decorated by famed Polynesian Pop artist “Tiki Bosko” Hrnjak. Sadly it was shuttered by late 2004 and reopened de-tikified. Taboo Cove’s downfall was due to a poor location deep within a casino with a completely different theme, inadequate promotion, and blaring club music, which drove more authentic fans away.

The bar at Las Vegas Trader Vic’s, 2008.

Next was a Trader Vic’s location in the Miracle Mile shops at Planet Hollywood Resort & Casino. When I visited during the summer of 2008 it had not yet been opened a year. Apart from some large carvings and stylized graphics like this backlit mask behind the bar, the space was basically unthemed and was aimed at the vodka Red Bull crowd rather than actually Polynesian Pop aficionados. In 2009 Vic’s met the same fate as Taboo Cove, as much a victim of the economic downturn as its poor design.

Frankie's Tiki Room

Las Vegas is currently undergoing a tiki bar revival, however, that began with the opening of a new bar closer to downtown Las Vegas roughly six months before Trader Vic’s on the Strip folded, Frankie’s Tiki Room.

If the neon signage outside this white stucco stand-alone building looks like classic Vegas, it’s because it is. Liquid Vacation: 77 Refreshing Tropical Drinks from Frankie’s Tiki Room in Las Vegas (2013; reprinted 2024) notes that Frankie’s Bar and Cocktail Lounge had been around since the 1950s before falling into disrepair and being put up for sale. What inspired the owners of the punk rock Double Down Saloon, P Moss and his partner Chris Andrasfay, to buy it and turn it into a tiki bar was the loss of Taboo Cove. The redesigned Frankie’s opened on December 4, 2008.

The signage was kept and fitted with new graphics, keeping the original moniker in tribute to the good ol’ days of this local watering hole. From Liquid Vacation:

Some swear the bar was named after Sinatra. Not true. Some say it was named after the wife of the original owner. Maybe. But whatever the origin, and despite the fact that most tiki bars have Polynesian-sounding names, rebranding the new concept was never considered and the name Frankie’s was kept out of respect for a historic Las Vegas so many others are too quick to implode.

The marquee above routinely features humorous phrases, like FORGET ROSES BUY HER A MAI TAI or KNOCK BACK A VICIOUS VIRGIN / BE THE FIRST. My favorite is their Christmas greeting: GET A HEAD START ON HOLIDAY DRINKING.

The new lettering is typical of mid-century advertising and jumbles along the baseline as if dancing the conga.

The entrance is a mix of Polynesian Pop iconography and a playful illustration style that suggests tattoo art. The red door looks like a dive bar. This could easily be a biker hangout or a punk rock venue, and that’s part of Frankie’s charming-yet-sleazy exterior vibes. More downtown Las Vegas than the Strip. It feels like a local joint.

Printed along the backlit arch above are the words KAHI MALUHIA LOA I KA HONUA in the same funky typeface as the other FRANKIE’S and GAMBLING signs.

The phrase translates from Hawaiian as “The Most Peaceful Place in the World.”

Every traditional tiki establishment, like the Aku Aku, was typically guarded by statuary at the entrance, and Frankie’s is no different. These sit at either side of the front door. You can also see part of the vivid lowbrow mural to the right which wraps the entire ceiling of the arched entry.

Another more elaborate and unique carving sits off to one side by a bike rack.

Walking in, you find a very, very dark bar. In fact it was difficult to take photos without a flash. But the decor is lush and recalls the classic tiki bars of the past.

Why all this talk of the Aku Aku before getting to Frankie’s? Well, because the interior was designed by none other than the grandson of Eli Hedley, noted carver and decorator “Bamboo Ben” Bassham. Ben has since gone on to design other tiki projects in Vegas, including one currently underway. Here’s a great 2015 interview with him.

Part of the charm of Frankie’s, which I’ve visited several times over the years, is that it splits the difference between themed immersion and what is clearly a typical Las Vegas cocktail lounge which can be found inside any casino.

To wit: Frankie’s is open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week (a first for tiki). The bar is lined with video poker machines. You can smoke inside. So even though you can take your drink and wander over to one of the thatch-roofed seating areas, replete with Polynesian decor, it’s impossible to forget that you’re in Vegas. Frankie’s looks like it, sounds like it, and even smells like it, despite its tiki makeover.

Indeed there are moments where you can see the Frankie’s of the 1950s in the black ceiling poking through the thatch overhead.

However, they don’t call him Bamboo Ben for nothing. Every wall of Frankie’s is covered with it, along with many carvings and hand-crafted furniture, some of it provided by Tiki Bosko who had done the same for Taboo Cove.

Lowbrow artists were also commissioned to provide many paintings and tiki mug designs. This one above is typical of the lowbrow style and mixes pop icons like the Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954) with Bamboo Ben himself drinking alongside several characters that appear in Beetlejuice (1988).

Frankie’s successfully walks the line between the twenty-four hour video poker and indoor smoking Las Vegas is famous for, along with stirring in punk rock, biker bar, and lowbrow art with traditional tiki bar decor, drinks, and souvenir mugs. It’s a local favorite, has earned an entry in Atlas Obscura, and is a must-see for Polynesian Pop enthusiasts visiting town. I’ve been several times since it opened, and I’m sure I’ll be back.

Continued in Part 2.

Kingdoms of Artifice is Available for Pre-Order.

May 21, 2026 by Dave Gottwald

Finally, my monograph project with Dr. Benjamin George of Utah State University, Kingdoms of Artifice, is now available for pre-order. Well, it’s been available for over a month now, but I’m just getting around to posting about it.

I’ve mentioned him before, but my friend Benjamin is Associate Professor in the Department of Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning at Utah State University, where he teaches courses in landscape architecture. George's research interests include the impact of technology on design processes, zoo design, online design pedagogy, and landscape history. He is the creator of the award-winning Digital Library of Landscape Architecture History.

To remind, The opening of Disney’s Animal Kingdom (1998) introduced the design principles of the theme park to the display of wildlife. In the decades since, zoo designers the world over have adapted Disney’s approach in theming both the visitor and the animal experience.

With Kingdoms of Artifice we critically examine how post-Disney zoo environments combine entertainment with education and complexify authenticity with theatricality.

Both of us are thrilled with the blurbs provided by the reviewers…

“This volume brilliantly situates the contemporary zoo within the broader world of themed environments, showing how narrative, design, and immersion reshape our encounters with animals and nature. It is both intellectually engaging and highly relevant, offering fresh insights into the cultural work that zoos perform in the twenty-first century.” —Scott A. Lukas, Lake Tahoe Community College, USA and author of Theme Park (2008)

“Engaging and highly accessible in tone, this book is essential reading for anyone serious about understanding the evolution of the modern zoo and Disney’s transformative contribution to it, enriched throughout with insights and reflections from many of the leading figures in zoo and attractions design.” —Bernard Harrison, Former Singapore Zoo Director and Internationally Renowned Zoologist, Indonesia

“I've known Dave Gottwald for the last thirty years and it came as no surprise, having known how unique a perspective he viewed all of life, that he would come up with an idea this fresh, insightful, unique and for me out of left-field. I know nothing about the subject matter, and thus, was just amazed with not only the originality of this concept but how extraordinarily well it was researched. I always tell people they have adult jobs because all I do is draw Mickey Mouse all day and this is a perfect example – an adult with an extraordinarily original concept that I never would've thought of. Enjoy!” ―George Scribner, Artist and Animator, Walt Disney Imagineering, Panama, and Director of Walt Disney Animation Studios’ Oliver & Company (1988)

The ebook PDF and hardcover are now available for pre-order from Bloomsbury Academic, Studies in Disney and Culture, and will be released September 3 and October 1, 2026, respectively. I’m quite pleased with this date because it’s the beginning of Disney’s fiscal year. Both the Magic Kingdom (1971) and EPCOT Center (1982) opened on October the first.

It’s pretty funny that Benjamin first met me because of an Amazon review I wrote. And now we have our very own page. We’ve also started a zoo and theming research blog so be sure to check it out.

The Typography of Disney's Animal Kingdom Part 3: DinoLand, U.S.A.

February 01, 2026 by Dave Gottwald

DinoLand, U.S.A. is going the way of its subject. Extinct. As the park’s original lead creative Joe Rohde lamented on Instagram, today, February 1, 2026, is the last day to experience this part of Disney’s Animal Kingdom (DAK).

Back in August 2024, Disney announced the area will be replaced with an equatorial part of the globe not yet represented at DAK, Central and South America:

Tropical Americas — better known as Pueblo Esperanza — will be a new 11-acre lush and sprawling area. Just like Harambe, this land will feel lived in, with a long, rich history.

Along with appropriate vegetation, characters from Disney’s 2021 animated film Encanto will be moving into Tropical Americas along with jungle adventurer Indiana Jones.

This portion of DAK was jokey and light, the only part of the park’s original design which oozed “cute.” It was Michael Eisner’s idea for a kids area. Despite the rest of DAK’s emphasis on realism, he reportedly told Rohde’s team to “lead with your clichés,” and simply name the dinoland, well, DinoLand.

Rohde says the intent was hokey, “part wacky souvenir stand and part dinosaur dig.” He reasons that “ultimately not everything at Animal Kingdom could be this gigantic labor-intensive landscape exercise. We needed that kind of theme-parky land,” he thought, especially for younger children.

Still, the land carried Animal Kingdom’s overall values. In our interviews with him, Rohde reminded us that dinosaurs, as adorable as kids may find them, require a very cerebral, adult form of affection to truly appreciate. Dinosaurs represent a mature love of wild creatures, manifested as “the intellectual study of the animals, the science of the animals.” Rohde observes that dinosaurs “exist literally as minerals, as fossils. It is only through human intellectual exercise that they become animals again.”

This messaging within DinoLand, U.S.A., however, was at times subtle. As Rohde noted in his Instagram post:

I will never know how many people picked up on the Venn diagram of ideas in play. The old school professors defending outmoded ideas. The young students with challenging new theories. The corporate financiers and their amoral profit motive. The roadside America entrepreneurs and their simple non-academic love of dinosaurs for pure fun.

Here in tribute is a look at the land’s unique lettering styles.

The aesthetic of DinoLand was that of mid-century roadside Americana. Typographically, it’s a lovely treat. The above billboard, for example, employs dimensional text like so many early 20th century tourist WELCOME TO… postcards.

Apart from some standard amusement park-style rides within Chester & Hester’s Dino-Rama!, a playful interpretation of Route 66 roadside camp and whimsy, the other big attraction was The Boneyard, a playground themed to a paleontological fossil dig where the graduate students had set up camp.

Leveraging design empathy, the Imagineers designed it as a child’s look at a working paleontological site where skeletons have become slides, jungle gyms, and frameworks for swings. With these embedded didactics and other similar flourishes, DinoLand, U.S.A. demonstrated the best of quality children’s zoos, where learning goes hand in hand with fun. All of the notes appear to be actual handwriting, not digital fonts.

The Dino Institute building, themed as a contemporary natural history museum, housed the land’s thrill ride, Dinosaur. The billboard / mural out front featured some hand-painted Copperplate along with Brush Script, which was designed by Robert E. Smith for American Type Founders in 1942 and quickly became ubiquitous in mid century advertising.

The seal of the institute was rendered in a bold geometric sans-serif with a curious condensed weight wrapping the lower half.

Later this year, Dinosaur—originally called Countdown to Extinction—will begin a reversion to its technological origins to be reborn as an Indiana Jones attraction similar to Disneyland’s. As the ride’s footprint had always been a clone of that attraction, this is a an obvious and cost-effective move on the part of the Imagineers.

Surrounding the Dino Institute, which represents our scientific relationship to extinct species with its fairly direct signage, was carnival-like hucksterism. According to Alex Wright’s The Imagineering Field Guide to Disney's Animal Kingdom (2007), this “crass commercialization of dinosaurs” around this small stop in the American Southwest stood in contrast to the paleontological site.

Because of the fossils discovered nearby, the residents were trying to capitalize on it. Venues included Chester & Hester’s Dinosaur Treasures, a curio shop, and the Restaurantosaurus, a fast food outlet.

Some bristled at part of Animal Kingdom being set so close to home and portrayed so comically. For Rohde, however, DinoLand, U.S.A. was just as realistic a depiction of a human-animal relationship as anything else at the park. As he told Tales from the Laughing Place magazine, “[This] is part of roadside America. Most Americans need to drive cross-country to see dinosaurs and invariably it means pulling off of the freeway and either looking at fossils and rocks…a dig site and a rock shop. This is our experience of dinosaurs.”

The hand-assembled lettering above, made of pre-fabricated characters seemingly bought at a hardware store, along with the Christmas tree lights, fit this vibe perfectly.

Amateur signage was everywhere in DinoLand, much of it sporting the groan-inducing puns that the Imagineers are known for.

But there were also more professionally rendered moments, all of them consistent with the mid century setting. To the trained graphic design eye, these typefaces are clearly contemporary revivals. In fact, they look like typical offerings from the Font Diner digital foundry, which launched in 1996, when DinoLand would have been in development. But to the average guest, every sign harmonized with what we’ve been taught of the past from television shows and the movies. Feeling authentic is what matters.

Small moments, like this popcorn lighted arrow sign, appeared authentic to anyone who has stopped on the highway in the middle of the desert to relieve themselves at a filling station.

This was perhaps one of my favorite billboards in all of DinoLand. There is something about the imperfect dimensional type and the irregular “GOOD BUY” capitals that rang true with the vernacular signage as captured by graphic designer and educator Ed Fella on his countless American roadtrips documenting amatuer lettering.

There were countless sight gags throughout DinoLand, U.S.A. This one hinted at one explanation for the mass extinction event that wiped out these creatures—a comet.

The story graphics around The Boneyard area, in the form of signs and notices tacked up, represented a lively scholarly debate in language accessible to younger guests. Here we find Brush Script again as well as long passages set in Cooper Black, a mainstay of the 1930s which saw broad revival in the 1960s.

The cast members here were trained as docents by the DAK conservation and science team to interact with kids at their level. All the pinned up graphic ephemera reinforced this.

Though I never spent much time inside DinoLand, U.S.A. on my visits to Animal Kingdom, I do feel that the area was somewhat unique and held a particular charm, not just for younger visitors but—like so many lands at the Disney parks—for also the young at heart.

In a way, it was DAK’s Fantasyland, and I’m sorry to see it go. Still, at the same time DinoLand was always an odd fit, and introducing the only equatorial zone not yet represented at the park along with regionally appropriate IP makes total sense.

Farewell, DinoLand, U.S.A.

The Typography of Disney's Animal Kingdom Part 2: Asia.

August 02, 2025 by Dave Gottwald

Asia at Disney’s Animal Kingdom on the eastern edge of the park was not ready by April 1998. This was all part of the plan. Creative lead Joe Rohde reminded us that the project budget was fleshed out as a series of successive capital allocations. “In order to get the money to build the park at all,” his team had to focus on the entry, center, Africa, and DinoLand, U.S.A., Rohde explains. “Everything else was added in fragments,” and the Asia expansion was finally authorized “out of the recognition that we were just going to need more ride capacity.”

Crossing the entry bridge from Discovery Island made of red brick and white stone pedestals, inspired by Nepalese temples, there is a large marquee above that spells ASIA in an Indian-like script typeface that can be read as English.

It was decided to push out most of Asia into 1999, but on opening day there were visual hints of what was to come, including a 1,250-seat outdoor theater called the Caravan Stage. The design of the ancient-walled space is a caravansary, where travellers gather there wagons to rest as a kind of ac hoc hostel. Here the entrance story graphic is elaborately embroidered in a Middle Eastern tapestry.

The Caravan Stage originally housed Flights of Wonder, an exotic trained bird performance common at many zoos. This story graphic banner is presented in-world as if this is an actual traveling show put on by locals.

I think Joe Rohde’s Imagineering team outdid themselves with Asia. The graphic design is even more elaborate than what’s found in Africa. Here ghost graphics, story graphics, and operational wayfinding are seamlessly blended together in a single environmental gestalt.

Anandapur

The Asia equivalent of Harambe in Africa is the fictional town of Anandapur, which means Place of All Delight in Sanskrit. Anandapur the town sits within the Kingdom of Anandapur, a fictional nation state “somewhat like India, somewhat like Nepal,” Joe Rohde says, yet “somewhat like Indonesia [and] Bhutan.”

In many places, Indian English is accompanied by Sanskrit script, which Joe Rohde says was a conscious choice. Though the designers “didn't continue with this because it was very, very difficult,” he told us the Imagineers “made almost all the original signage in old Sanskrit, which isn’t Hindi,” he reminds. “So that even a person from India reading a sign would have that sense of, ‘oh, that’s not where I’m from.’”

Snacks and beverages are available at Drinkwallah as sponsored by Coca-Cola. Note the fictional proprietor—Rohana Burhan. This is a common Imagineering backstory technique. The hand lettering is charming and the sign is realistically distressed and faded.

The Coca-Cola FROZEN DRINKS lettering is typical of the company’s branding, a concession that must often be made for Disney park sponsors. Yet the aging of the metal sign as well as the fitted pipe supports fit with the setting.

India’s version of the company’s classic red and white script logo is also hand-painted on one of the stone brick walls of Drinkwallah.

Inside Drinkwallah there is more signage based on those found in India as well as authentic glass Coke bottle props.

Regrettably, in one of Animal Kingdom’s few design snafus, the sign here for Mandala Gifts has been rendered in Ondine, an Arabesque calligraphy script designed by Adrian Frutiger in 1954 that would never have been used in India. Ondine is an exotic-looking font to Western eyes and is common at lesser zoos and amusement parks (along with any kind of ethnic restaurant you can think of, from Chinese and Middle Eastern to Thai and even Greek).

Again at the bottom is an authentic-looking Indian Coca-Cola sign.

Joffrey’s Coffee & Tea Company is a real Tampa-based chain. Though its name and logo are reproduced inside this beverage stand, the company has also undergone a rebranding.

This rusted and weathered metal sign for the fictional Royal Anandapur Tea Company sits atop the roof. Produced and Distributed by Royal License connects the company with the backstory of the Kingdom of Anandapur.

Similar script treatments are used for other imaginary local firms. Anandapur Sheet Metal Company is embossed on the hood of this prop kitchen stove inside Drinkwallah.

There are countless fictional businesses and brands in this part of Animal Kingdom, perhaps even more so than in Harambe. Unless they advertise an actual eatery or shop, all would be considered ghost graphics meant to blend into the background.

Here the Disney Vacation Club, which sells timeshares, is branded as the Kshana Travel Company. Because this is a real venue, the sign is a story graphic and not a ghost one.

Similarly, at this spot there are animal keeper demonstrations. The real programming is given the backstory of being presented under the auspices of the Anandapur Travel and Tourism Bureau. The talks are done for the day, so the chalkboard is blank.

The first major attraction to open in Asia in March 1999 was the Maharajah Jungle Trek, a self-guided walking tour for the viewing of tigers and other animals. Guests are beckoned by a hand-painted story graphic in the shape of a wide arrow directing them to SEE Tigers Bats & Dragons with playful illustrations of each.

The attraction’s name is rendered in a script similar to the faux-Indian lettering at the entrance to Asia. The irregularity of the hand printing adds much verisimilitude to the sign.

The setting for this jungle trek is the Royal Forest of Anandapur, supposedly dating from the 16th century. The sanctuary is run by the fictional Royal Anandapur Wildlife and Forestry Authority. This narrative is spelled out explicitly in somewhat clumsily punctuated hand lettering on a story graphic near the entrance.

Gorgeously hand-painted signs and notices are scattered throughout this attraction. This is an embedded didactic, a story graphic conveying interpretative information about bats.

I would call this a ghost graphic. It doesn’t provide any actual information, so it’s not operational. The sign also does not identify the actual name of the attraction—Kali River Rapids—so it cannot be read at the story level either. The obsessive detailing of the Imagineers is evident in the locally accurate telephone number. The rust and sun fading is completely credible, making it look like this has been posted for decades.

Here, however, is an operational graphic at the rapids ride. Completely themed and in-story, it nevertheless points to the exit, and also notes you can Meet Your Party Here if not everyone disembarked at the same time or from the same raft.

Serka Zong

In 1999, Asia simply terminated near the exit to Kali River Rapids. Seven years later, the themed land was expanded and the Kingdom of Anandapur was extended into the Himalayas with the addition of the small fictional mountain hamlet of Serka Zong, which means Fortress of the Chasm.

This ghost graphic advertises a hotel coming soon, suggesting tourism is new to the area.

Another nearby sign reminds that Serka Zong has no accommodations (yet).

The Yak & Yeti was added to Anandapur with this expansion, hinting at what’s to come in Serka Zong. In addition to the restaurant’s signage, many story graphic faux wheatpaste posters advertise the establishment in both Anandapur and Serka Zong.

The Imagineering love of puns and wordplay is legendary, as in this ad for the Ye-Tea brand.

There is a tall massing of six snow-covered peaks in the distance behind Serka Zong representing the Himalayas. This sign describes all actual peaks except for the Forbidden Mountain, so it’s a mixture of story graphic and embedded didactic.

I would classify these two signs as ghost graphics. Neither business actually exists. This is just more of John Hench’s eyewash to add environmental detail.

Here are more examples of the bad graphic design on purpose found in Harambe. This is different than using the Ondine script for Mandala Gifts, which is obviously an amateur move. Here the exaggerated warping, type on a path, and and dimensional lettering directly implies that the locals who rendered the graphics are probably self-taught.

Gupta’s Gear is a climbing outfitter with countless backpacks, sleeping bags, tents, mats, rope, kerosine lanterns, and miscellaneous camping gear hanging from the rafters below a corrugated metal roofline. The store serves no actual retail purpose. According to the Imagineers’ backstory, the shop is closed while Gupta is up on the Forbidden Mountain.

The Shangri-La Trekkers Inn and Internet Cafe sits within the brick walls of the upper level. Another ghost graphic sign for a business which does not exist.

Next door is a lovely operational graphic that is bold and legible yet stays completely in-story. This could be a painted notice from a part of India where English is widely spoken.

Expedition Everest

Expedition Everest – Legend of the Forbidden Mountain opened in the spring of 2006 as Animal Kingdom’s only roller coaster attraction. Its queue is filled with all kinds of graphics and ephemera which establish a sense of place and also provide backstory clues for the adventure which lies ahead.

The entrance sign is painted on part of a canvas tarp in English lettering with some Hindi flourishes.

Within this cluster of several buildings guests will learn everything they need to know about the Yeti and the Forbidden Mountain. The irregular lettering on the banner here is a nice touch. It really appears to have been rendered by some person off the street.

Here is perhaps the single best operational graphic I have ever seen at a Disney park. All of the lawyer-approved safety language is present. For consistency, the Imagineers used (or created) a digital font which appears handwritten. This is important—each individual character is identical, providing for maximum legibility. The human figure icons used are internationally recognized. Yet the sign is completely in-story and in-world. The rust patina alone is enough to place this graphic in the Disney parks hall of fame. Subtle perfection.

Lower on the same post the height graphic is repeated. But because it’s far larger, and also redundant, more distressing is permissible. This is almost a ghost graphic; easily ignored.

Inside, there is branding for the imaginary Himalayan Escapes–Tours and Expeditions, owned by Norbu and Bob, throughout. Notices are roughly hand-painted, addressing guests as if they are about to embark on a backpacking climb into the mountains.

Many signs indicate the reverence the locals have for the mysterious Yeti. The combination of typeface and hand lettering here, as well as Hindi and English, contributes to the verisimilitude of the space.

All are rendered by hand, or by custom typefaces which appear to be handwriting. One of the Imagineering details on display here is that the styles from one sign to another are mostly unique. This appears to be the same typeface used on the exterior operational graphic listing the safety guidelines for the roller coaster.

Though the Yeti is revered, it is also feared. The irregular letter spacing and kerning pairs, as well as the stroke widths, make this serif face a real treat.

One major section of the queue is Tashi’s Trek and Tongba Shop, a general store offering provisions for Norbu and Bob’s expedition tours. The sans serif appears to be based on Futura Display (1933) which was revived by letraset in 1976. As on many of these other story and ghost graphics, the Sanskrit calligraphy is luscious and entirely credible.

This menu is a story graphic rather than operational, because the refreshment stand is not real. This lettering was probably traced from a typeface by hand, because if you look carefully each individual character has subtle distinctions, but are consistent enough to have come from the same digital font. Menu and Thanks are set in a different script face.

The final interior space of the queue is a museum dedicated to the Yeti as an elusive, dangerous Himalayan species. The serif lettering here dates from the early 1900s.

The Imagineers often use what I call prop cages in their attraction queues. Cabinets are stuffed with objects. Flat frames like this one are filled with print ephemera. The only typeface that takes me out of the story is the use of Adobe’s Birch (1990) for Yeti Is Real!

This particular broadside, warning that the Yeti is real, can be found all over Serka Zong.

Norbu and Bob, however, warn guests that the content of the “Yeti Museum” (notice the scare quotes) is suspect. I like this notice because the handwriting appears to be authentic. When I’ve done this sort of graphic work before, I would write out all the text multiple times with a Sharpie marker, scan it all in, and then assemble the final block digitally, picking the best word or character(s) for each sentence. This might be the case here.

This operational graphic (GO THIS WAY arrow) is rendered on a souvenir postcard from Himalayan Escapes–Tours and Expeditions. This also appears to be traced over a typeface.

Many theme park attractions feature a digital photo taken on the ride which guests can purchase prints of after they disembark. Here an operational sign is dressed in-story. The top hand-lettered sans serif is combined with the same typeface found on other operational graphics for Expedition Everest and another bit of hand lettering for FOLLOW ME.

As always, guests exit through a gift shop. The lettering for Serka Zong here is a bit too cheeky, too Six Flags. But the dimensional slab serif is nice, and includes shading lines.

Walking back to Anandapur, there are metal wayfinding fins for other attractions. I particularly like the Kilimanjaro Safaris sign—despite the Copperplate Gothic—with the separate rusted arrow affixed with rusted bailing wire.

And of course, if guests wish to return to Africa, it’s fairly easy to find Harambe again.

Overall, the graphic design in Anandapur and Serka Zong in the Asia section of Disney’s Animal Kingdom is some of the most successful and credible found in any theme park.

Continued in Part 3.