A 1967 Poster for Bill Graham by Bonnie Maclean

In the summer of 1967, music in America was changing forever. The British invasion had reshaped rock, jazz and blues were fusing into something louder and freer, and in San Francisco, the counterculture was in full bloom. It was the Summer of Love, and the Fillmore Auditorium had become its beating heart — a place where music, light, and art collided nightly under the vision of promoter Bill Graham.Inside that creative whirlwind was Bonnie MacLean — Graham’s partner, and soon to be his wife. She had come to the Fillmore originally to help with the day-to-day chaos of the office: taking calls, handling tickets, and hand-lettering the chalkboard announcements that greeted each night’s crowd. When the Fillmore’s resident poster artist, Wes Wilson, abruptly departed, Graham turned to MacLean. She had been quietly sketching in the background, and her talent was impossible to ignore.

By July 1967, their personal and creative lives were intertwined. Bill and Bonnie had married only a few weeks earlier, and now she was stepping forward as the Fillmore’s visual voice. Her first series of posters emerged quickly — lush, flowing works influenced by Art Nouveau and tinged with a distinctly feminine elegance. Then came the commission that would define her early career: the poster for a six-night run featuring The Doors and The Yardbirds at the Fillmore Auditorium.

The Doors were ascending fast. Light My Fire had just reached number one on the American charts, and Jim Morrison’s stage presence was stirring both fascination and controversy. The Yardbirds, meanwhile, were closing an era — their lineup included Jimmy Page, months before forming Led Zeppelin. For six nights in late July, 1967, these two forces shared the same bill in San Francisco, and Bonnie MacLean was tasked with capturing that electricity on paper.

She began with what would become her hallmark: a human face, serene yet powerful, framed by radiating shapes that suggest peacock feathers — a symbol of beauty and transformation. Her lines were fluid, her colours bold but harmonious, and her lettering curved organically around the design, blurring the line between message and art. Where many psychedelic posters of the era screamed in fluorescent chaos, MacLean’s design drew you in quietly — confident, poised, and unmistakably her own.

The final work was numbered BG75 in Bill Graham’s poster series — “BG” for his initials, a running catalogue of every Fillmore concert. Printed in July 1967, the original edition measured just over twenty-one inches tall and carried the small credit of the printing house Neal, Stratford & Kerr tucked in the corner. For collectors today, that small detail marks the prized first printing.

When the posters went up across San Francisco, they did more than advertise a concert — they became an emblem of the time. The Doors, The Yardbirds, Richie Havens, and the James Cotton Blues Band would take the Fillmore stage under a canopy of swirling lights, as thousands filed in, many unaware that the face gazing out from the posters on the walls had been drawn by the woman who worked quietly upstairs in the office.

Bonnie MacLean would go on to design more than thirty posters for Bill Graham in the following years, each distinct yet instantly recognisable. But BG75 remains one of her most celebrated — not just for the musicians it heralded, but for the moment it represents: the merging of art, music, and personal devotion during one of the most creative and tumultuous summers in American culture.

Today, the BG75 poster endures as both a time capsule and a declaration — that art created from the heart of a movement doesn’t fade, it becomes part of history itself.

...and she drew us in

A long thought out and deserving process brought us here.

Among the hundreds of Fillmore Auditorium posters that emerged from San Francisco’s golden era, BG75 stood out to us immediately. The decision to feature it at Morrison Court wasn’t made for its rarity alone, but for what it represents — musically, artistically, and emotionally.

At its core, the poster celebrates a moment in history when The Doors headlined one of the most electric concert runs of the 1960s. The year was 1967 — the Summer of Love — when rock and roll, poetry, and rebellion merged into a cultural revolution that changed music forever. It was a time when lyrics became literature, sound became movement, and artists like The Doors were not just performing but awakening something collective. That spirit — curious, fearless, alive — sits at the heart of Morrison Court’s inspiration.

Equally captivating is the artwork itself. Bonnie MacLean’s design reflects the influence of Alphonse Mucha, the Czech master of Art Nouveau. Her flowing lines, ornamental framing, and stylised human face echo Mucha’s approach — blending beauty, balance, and emotion into a single visual rhythm. The connection feels almost poetic in Malta, where Art Nouveau architecture found its way into townhouses between the 1910s and 1950s. Many Maltese façades still carry those same elegant curves and floral motifs, often intertwined with the geometry of early Art Deco. In this sense, the BG75 poster feels like a transatlantic bridge — uniting San Francisco’s psychedelic revolution with Malta’s own period of design flourish.

The colours of BG75 also spoke to us. They are bright and unmistakably psychedelic, yet restrained — vibrant without chaos. There’s a confidence and calm in its composition that invites contemplation rather than overwhelm. We felt that this emotional balance made it the perfect centrepiece for our listening space and living area at Morrison Court — a focal point that would quietly command the room.

We framed it with a deep mount and a wide mat border, allowing the artwork to breathe while drawing the eye inward. The depth of the frame gives the piece a quiet gravitas — almost like looking into a window of time. It’s not just decoration; it’s an anchor.

Our intention with this piece was to help our guests feel the music of the era more vividly — not just to hear it. When you sit in the space, the poster becomes part of the listening experience. It stirs something: your mind begins to wander, to fill in the gaps, to imagine what those nights at the Fillmore might have sounded like. You can almost sense the feedback of the guitars, the scent of the room, the pulse of an age when everything felt possible.

It’s a beautiful moment — the kind that happens quietly, while the music plays and you’re leafing through one of the many books in the apartment, perhaps on album cover art or the concert posters of the 1960s. That’s what we wanted to create: a stay that doesn’t just house you, but transports you — back to a time when music and art weren’t separate worlds, but one continuous, living experience.

This is why we chose the BG75 poster as the iconic centrepiece of Morrison Court — a timeless reminder that art and sound are at their best when they make us travel, dream, and feel.