On this day in 1975, Industrial Light & Magic was officially signed into existence by George Lucas. By Lucas O. Seastrom ILM’s original crew for Star Wars: A New Hope (1977) poses in the front lot of their original studio (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm). 50 years ago today on May 28, 1975, George Lucas signed a legal certificate issuing his formal shares of stock ownership in a new company: Industrial Light & Magic. It’s likely the founder affixed his signature without pomp or ceremony. There was too much to do. ILM, as it would come to be known for short, had less than two years to build a visual effects studio from scratch and create nearly 400 shots in a new space fantasy film called Star Wars. By that time in late May, Lucas had hired John Dykstra to supervise the film’s visual effects. The director had an audacious vision for creating dynamic images of spaceships dogfighting with each other. Lucas wanted the camera to move with the ships, as if the camera operators were up there to capture the action by hand. The idea broke many of the traditional rules in visual effects that typically required locked off cameras to allow for separate elements to be carefully blended together. Visual effects supervisor John Dykstra poses on the stage next to a TIE fighter miniature (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm). John Dykstra was practically the only effects artist in Hollywood willing to buy into Lucas’s plans on the existing terms. He’d gained experience with the type of equipment that would be needed to realize the elaborate shots of custom-built miniatures. Dykstra was also a free thinker with a sense of adventure. There were only a handful of effects companies still operating, and none at a major studio. Most balked at the proposal, decrying its limited budget, tight schedule, and seemingly unattainable goals. So Dykstra was tasked with establishing a new operation. Lucas was a Northern Californian and planned to base the editorial side of post-production near his San Francisco Bay Area home. He wanted to do the same for visual effects. Dykstra argued otherwise, deciding to keep the new facility in Southern California where he had access to a network of talent and close proximity to third party film processing labs. So it was at some point in late May that Dykstra located and then leased a warehouse in Van Nuys, one of a number of towns that sprawled across the San Fernando Valley, a ways north of Hollywood proper, and conveniently removed from the overbearing presence of the established studios.  Located in an industrial park on Valjean Avenue, just a block from the south end of the Van Nuys Airport, ILM rented a building for $2,300 a month from owner Bill Hanna. It was two stories, made largely of stacked cinder blocks, with a large asphalt lot in front. Inside were a handful of unfurnished offices and open warehouse space with high ceilings ideal for hanging lights. Early on, Dykstra would drive his motorcycle through the building, leaving skid marks on the floor. It was often oppressively hot, even more so once the tungsten film lights were switched on, and Dykstra initially planned to construct a pool onsite, but later compromised with a cold tub that could hold multiple people. The exterior of ILM’s original studio in Van Nuys, CA. An explosion on the surface of the Death Star is photograped in the foreground (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm). “It just popped into my head,” Lucas would recall about the name “Industrial Light & Magic.” “We were sitting in an industrial park and using light to create magic. That’s what they were going to do.” Initially, Dykstra worked out of Lucasfilm’s offices in a bungalow on the Universal Studios lot, a few minutes drive from Van Nuys. Soon he’d moved to Valjean, working off the floor before furniture was acquired. He was busy recruiting. By early June, modelmakers Grant McCune and Bill and Jamie Shourt were hired, as were production manager Bob Shepherd, technician Jerry Greenwood, first cameraman Richard Edlund, electronics designer Al Miller, and machinists Richard Alexander and Don Trumbull.  As former Lucasfilm executive editor J.W. Rinzler would note in The Making of Star Wars, “They all knew one another and had worked together before.” They’d worked on feature films with Douglas Trumbull (son of Don), or on commercials and other projects with Robert Abel and Associates. A later group would come from another commercial house, Cascade Pictures. Others came straight from universities where they’d studied everything from animation to industrial design. They brought with them aspects of the culture and methodology from these other places, together making something new and unique. Optical composite photography supervisor Robert Blalack’s Praxis Printer is loaded into the new ILM space (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm). A view of one of ILM’s shooting stages in the rear of the original Van Nuys studio (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm). Before anything else could happen, the Valjean warehouse needed to be converted into production space and workshops. Over six weeks into the summer, they first taped out sections and then constructed the designated areas themselves. On the first floor would be the optical and rotoscope departments, a model shop, machine shop, wood shop, two shooting stages in the rear, and production offices in the front. Upstairs would be home to the animation department, editorial, a screening room, and the art department.By July, optical composite photography supervisor Robert Blalack and animation and rotoscope supervisor Adam Beckett had been hired, as had a sound recordist and designer who would use ILM’s space as a sometime home base, Ben Burtt. By early August, artist Joe Johnston was setting up the art department (concept artists Colin Cantwell and Ralph McQuarrie had started much earlier, but each worked from home). Within a few months, a dozen people were on board, many of them attracted to join the project out of admiration for George Lucas, whose American Graffiti (1973) had made waves upon its release two years before. The second floor art department, with storyboard and concept artist Joe Johnston working at a desk in the background as modelmaker Paul Huston looks on (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm). Film control coordinator Mary Lind in the upstairs editorial department (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm). The spaces were ready by mid-summer, but ILM’s work had only just begun. It would take them nearly a year to successfully design and construct an entire visual effects facility and workflow, including miniatures, motion-control camera systems, optical printers, animation cameras, and blue screens. “There’s a significant difference between coming up with a good idea and executing it,” Dykstra would say. ILM’s initial budget was roughly $1.2 million. Although time was of the essence to build the various equipment, distributor 20th Century Fox was slow to provide any initial funds ahead of the main shoot, which would commence in the spring of 1976. So for much of its first year, ILM operated with George Lucas’s personal finances, thanks to the momentous commercial success of American Graffiti. Former ILM general manager Thomas G. Smith would explain in his 1986 book, The Art of Special Effects, how “Outside, it looked like all the other industrial-style buildings in the valley. Inside, it was staffed with very young technicians, some barely out of college, few over 30, some even under 20 years old…. The doors at ILM were open 24 hours a day; technicians and artists worked without regard to time clocks or job classifications. They were children of the ’60s, and many rebelled against authority figures and traditional work rules. There were no dress codes and no specified work hours; designers built models, and modelmakers ran cameras. But there was a strong esprit de corps and feeling of purpose in the building…. The involvement was with the cause rather than with the money; somehow the group felt they were a part of something really important.” John Dykstra inspects miniatures of X-wings, TIE fighters, and Y-wings (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm). The first floor model shop in ILM’s original Van Nuys, CA studio (Credit: ILM & Lucasfilm). What this group was about to accomplish in less than two years was anything but certain that late spring of 1975. If anything, it was “a long shot,” as Dykstra himself would admit. “It was very, very hard to say specifically what was and what wasn’t going to work before we built it,” he told Cinefantastique in 1977. “So we just had to take a shot at it and all I could do was bluff it and say, ‘Oh yeah, everything’s gonna be fine!’”As would become the defining element of ILM’s success and endurance, it was the people who made all the difference. “It would be very hard to do Star Wars just by setting up an independent facility unless you had the personnel to do it,” Dykstra said. “The people who designed the equipment and constructed it made it all happen. Not only was it independent of studios but the people who were doing it are the best people in the industry right now.” What began quietly with a handful of people in a hot, mostly empty warehouse would ultimately do the impossible, not just in the sense of its accomplishments on screen or the resulting accolades, but in its ability to grow, adapt, and continue innovating time and again. That story continues today at the company’s studios around the world. Though ILM has long since outgrown its original warehouse, it still attracts the same intrepid, curious people who bring their passion for image-making and problem-solving to multiple art forms. Watch ILM’s new celebratory reel in honor of the company’s 50th anniversary: — Lucas O. Seastrom is the editor of ILM.com and a contributing writer and historian for Lucasfilm. Read more on the ILM.com Newsroom. Watch Light & Magic on Disney+.