Typography—that is to say, the use of lettering on signage and props—is an essential part of world building within themed spaces. From the first moment I set foot in the Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge expansion at Disneyland, I was astounded at the level of detail the designers put into their deployment of the “Aurebesh” alphabet.

This constructed script was first used on screen displays in Return of the Jedi (1983) as designed by Joe Johnston, an art director on the film. He called the original character set he developed Star Wars 76, and it has been modified several times since for use within the Star Wars universe of films, television series, and merchandise.

Aurebesh is not the only alien language in the Star Wars universe, however. This entrance sign is masterfully rendered in one of these other alphabets.

Equally impressive is the ways in which English is incorporated throughout the land. Graphically, all the signage is “of a set” and completes the immersion begun by the space planning, architecture, and landscaping of Galaxy’s Edge.

Sometimes the use of English is charmingly and deceptively non-obvious, as at the entrance to Oga's Cantina. Many guests might walk right past and not read it because at a glance the lettering could be an alien language. Look closely, however, and the Roman characters emerge.

This “pass-by” read is reinforced by other nearly identical graphic treatments to the entrance of other interior spaces which use Aurebesh, like here at Savi's Workshop.

The verisimilitude of Galaxy’s Edge is tightly bound up with the unintelligibility of these signs. Just like wandering around any city on Earth where you don’t speak the language, guests visiting Black Spire Outpost on the planet Batuu feel as if they are encountering a truly alien place.

What does this say? If you want to know, the designers have added an extra layer of interactivity to Galaxy’s Edge. By installing the Star Wars: Datapad on Play Disney Parks Mobile App, there is actually a feature to translate the Aurebesh alphabet into English. Simply point your smartphone at the signage.

The variety of applications throughout the land is very cool, and all are appropriately distressed. Just like other aspects of the Star Wars universe, this is a “used future” in which nothing is shiny and new.

Operational Graphics

The Disney Imagineers have different level of graphics which they apply in their placemaking. The first, and more important, are Operational Graphics. These need to be in the native language of the guests, and, though stylized, fairly legible.

A large subset of these are wayfinding, just like the directional signage you would find at a mall or a large airport. In many examples throughout Galaxy’s Edge, the Aurebesh lettering is featured as a secondary language. Here the subtitles for each location are not required, and the titles can be clearly read in English.

The stylization of operational graphics is a delicate business. Here the wait time indicator at Millennium Falcon: Smugglers Run needs to be loud and clear for guests. Notice that the lettering is subtly bolder with less flourishes than the earlier example.

Like any other visual hierarchy, scale undoubtedly helps. This exit sign for the attraction is quite stylized, but painted very large on the wall.

Just like in the real world, repetition also helps with recognition. EXIT is rendered the same way everywhere in Galaxy’s Edge, so if you’ve read it once you won’t give it a second thought the next time.

A common challenge with operational graphics is when they intersect with regulatory requirements. This restroom meets the international standard for the MEN icon while still feeling part of the world of Star Wars.

Similarly, this working fire hydrant needs the appropriate labeling but is stylized to the rest of the operational English as seen throughout the land.

As are the health warnings as required by California law.

Perfect theming is not always possible, of course. Although the STAFF ONLY lettering here is stylized, the State of California Alcoholic Beverage License must be displayed as is.

Yet the designers will modify Disney’s own internal language for operational graphics if it’s appropriate. Here the standard Cast Members Only is restated as AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY to make it more officious.

Story Graphics

The second category are Story Graphics. Like the name of the entrance to a shop or eatery, these bits of signage reinforce the reality of the narrative being established by the space. Here is a parking sign like you would find in an actual urban environment.

Successful story graphics express vernacular, or the recognizable and credible look of existing solutions and systems. This flight space announcement appears just as it would at a bus depot, subway station, or airport terminal.

Sometimes story graphics connect “our” world of products and services with the fantasy of a themed environment. The Coca-Cola brand is rendered in an alien script with just enough signifiers to tell us that it’s a “real” sign where we can purchase a Coke beverage. Is there Coke in Star Wars? Nope. But it doesn’t matter, because the story graphic has successfully inserted the brand into the environment, and thus, the world.

Ghost Graphics

The final category are Ghost Graphics. These bits of lettering, signage, and displays don’t so much as offer narrative as to complete the picture of the environment. This single line of Aurebesh doesn’t tell us anything other than to complete the reality of the computer wall panel.

Ghost graphics are also applied to objects. This appears to be a piece of luggage of some kind, but we don’t get any other information about it. This is the definition of ghost—these graphics float around almost invisible in the background, but add reality nonetheless.

Sometimes ghost graphics can subtly support story objectives. This pair of storage tanks is a ideal example. “Fr” is clearly a brand mark for a company of some kind, perhaps a petrochemical concern.

Imagineers often use ghost graphics to establish the history of a space; to give it the sense that there have been many different layers of inhabitation over the years. Here some kind of signage has faded away in the hot sun, and new lettering has been written on top in a kind of graffiti.

And of course all three types of graphics may contain iconography. Here the operational graphic on an automatic door incorporates an icon that feels “real world” in its utility.

On this story graphic, however, the meaning of the symbol is unknown to us; it serves no function. It means GROUND CREW only to the characters within this storyspace, yet it belongs in the same icon system as the sliding door.

Lastly, the designers will sometimes add an Easter Egg or “inside joke” into the graphic landscape. For example, within the Millennium Falcon set there is an XO on the wall which only serves as a reference to where Han Solo and Princess Leia shared a brief kiss.

Whether operational, story, or ghost, all the graphic design and typography within a themed environment contributes to the immersion and inhabitation we experience.

Disney has a short video from their Imagineering in a Box series that covers many other examples from their parks if you are interested in learning more.