Old Pop Art Prints and Posters from the ’60s Commanding Serious Money

The posters that once got thumbtacked to dorm walls and taped inside record shops were never meant to last. Most were printed cheaply, handled roughly, and thrown out the moment the show closed or the fad passed.

The survivors, especially the ones in sharp condition with the right printing and a signature, now trade for sums that would have stunned the art students and gig promoters who first pinned them up.

Condition governs everything here. A first printing with clean margins and bright color can be worth ten or twenty times a faded reprint of the same image, and a pencil signature can multiply the figure again.

These are the ’60s pop prints and posters that turned out to be quiet investments.

Andy Warhol, Campbell’s Soup I (1968)

Warhol’s 1968 portfolio reproduced ten soup flavors as color screenprints in an edition of 250, each sheet numbered. He signed most examples in pen on the reverse rather than the front, which still trips up buyers expecting a face signature.

Individual signed cans generally bring $30,000 to $150,000 at auction, with the scarcer flavors and crisp, unfaded impressions at the top of that range, while trimmed sheets, tape stains, or light-struck color pull prices down sharply. A complete signed set of ten can reach several hundred thousand dollars.

The surprising part is how much a rubber-stamped signature rather than a hand-signed one lowers the number.

Andy Warhol, Marilyn (1967)

The 1967 Marilyn portfolio of ten screenprints, edition of 250, reused the same 1953 publicity still Warhol had cropped for his 1962 paintings. The inks are famously fugitive, and prints left in daylight can shift or dull, so color freshness is one of the biggest price drivers.

Individual signed prints range from roughly $100,000 for common color combinations to well over $300,000 for the rarer variants, and a complete signed set has carried auction estimates between about $2.8 million and $4.2 million. Foxing, fading, and trimming can erase a large share of that value in a single glance.

Andy Warhol, Flowers (1964)

Before the well-known 1970 screenprint portfolio, Warhol’s Flowers first appeared as an offset lithograph made for his 1964 show at the Leo Castelli Gallery. Because it doubled as an exhibition announcement and mailer, it was produced in quantity and sits far below his signed editions.

Clean, unsigned examples typically sell in the low thousands, while signed impressions in strong condition reach five figures. Creasing, pin marks from being hung, and toning from cheap paper all matter to the final price.

Andy Warhol, Cow Wallpaper (1966)

For his 1966 Castelli show, Warhol papered the gallery walls in a repeating cow’s head printed on continuous rolls, later catalogued as an edition. Because it was literally wallpaper meant to be pasted up and discarded, plenty survives, and unsigned single sheets often trade in the low-to-mid four figures.

Hand-signed examples climb into the tens of thousands. Adhesive residue, edge tears, and color that has gone flat all cut into value.

Roy Lichtenstein, Sweet Dreams Baby! (1965)

From the 11 Pop Artists portfolio, edition of 200, this comic-panel “Pow!” is one of the most recognizable prints of the decade. Recent hammer prices have run from about $50,000 to $140,000.

Signature, margin width, and the strength of the primary reds and yellows separate the good impressions from the tired ones. A light-struck red or a trimmed sheet takes a heavy toll, and the same image in poor shape can sell for a fraction of a fresh one.

Roy Lichtenstein, Crak! (1963-64)

Crak! began as an offset lithograph poster announcing a Castelli exhibition, showing a woman firing a rifle with the onomatopoeic caption. Being a promotional poster produced in the hundreds, it sits well below his later signed screenprints.

Fine examples generally bring a few thousand dollars up to low five figures depending on condition and whether it carries a signature. Folds from mailing and toning at the margins are common and drag the price down.

Ed Ruscha, Standard Station (1966)

Ruscha’s screenprint of a Route 66 gas station shot in dramatic perspective was issued in an edition of just 50. That scarcity and its canonical status have pushed valuations into the six and even seven figures, with recent figures quoted around $760,000 to more than $1 million.

He later produced deliberately odd variants, including one with a torn ten-cent western floating in the sky above the pumps. Signature, condition, and the vividness of the sunset color are decisive.

Robert Indiana, LOVE (1965-67)

Indiana first drew the stacked letters with the tilted O as a Museum of Modern Art Christmas card in 1965, then issued screenprint editions in the years that followed. The image became so ubiquitous, and so widely copied, that he never secured a trademark and lost out on what could have been a fortune in licensing.

Original signed serigraphs from the period generally sell from the low five figures upward, with the vivid red, blue, and green version the most sought. Fading, trimming, and a flood of later restrikes complicate the market considerably.

James Rosenquist, Circles of Confusion (1965)

Also drawn from 11 Pop Artists, this screenprint borrows a photographic term for lens blur and layers fragmented advertising imagery, echoing Rosenquist’s start as a commercial billboard painter. The edition ran to 200. It is one of the more accessible blue-chip pop prints, often selling in the low-to-mid four figures.

Signed, well-margined impressions sit at the top, while foxing and fading undercut the rest.

Jim Dine, Tool Box (1966)

Dine made the Tool Box suite of ten screenprints in London in 1966, in an edition of 150, setting hammers, saws, and pliers against collaged fragments of consumer advertising. Individual sheets typically bring a few thousand dollars, and a complete set considerably more.

The surprising detail is that the plain tools are silhouetted over glossy magazine imagery of appliances and glamour pin-ups. Condition, signature, and completeness of the set drive value.

Richard Hamilton, Swingeing London 67 (1968)

Hamilton’s image records the 1967 drug arrest of Rolling Stone Mick Jagger and art dealer Robert Fraser, handcuffed together in a police van, the title a pun on a judge’s remark about a “swingeing” sentence. The offset lithograph poster came in an unsigned edition of 1,950, alongside a separate signed edition of 50.

Poster versions sell in the low-to-mid four figures, while the signed etching-and-collage version reaches far higher. Edition and condition determine the gap between the two.

David Hockney, A Rake’s Progress (1961-63)

Hockney’s suite of sixteen etchings, made in an edition of 50 after his first trip to New York, transplants Hogarth’s eighteenth-century morality tale into modern America. Complete signed sets in good condition have sold for six figures at houses such as Bonhams.

The young Hockney drew directly on his own Manhattan experiences and helped fund the ambitious project through Editions Alecto. Plate tone, paper condition, and whether the set is complete all govern the result.

Eduardo Paolozzi, As Is When (1965)

Paolozzi’s twelve-screenprint portfolio, printed at Kelpra Studio in an edition of 65, is built around the life and writings of philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein and is regarded as a landmark of British screenprinting. Complete portfolios trade in the five figures, with individual sheets more modest.

The surprising part is that a dense philosophical text became the springboard for such riotous pop color. Toning, trimming, and missing sheets all reduce value.

Peter Blake, Babe Rainbow (1968)

Blake, co-creator of the Sgt. Pepper album cover, printed Babe Rainbow on tin in an edition of about 10,000 for Dodo Designs, pricing it deliberately as a cheap mass object rather than a precious print. Because so many were made, examples remain affordable, often a few hundred dollars up to low four figures.

Rust, dents, and scratches to the metal surface are the main condition concerns. The catch that surprises new collectors is that it is printed on metal, not paper.

Corita Kent, power up (1965)

Kent, a Roman Catholic nun teaching art in Los Angeles, made joyful serigraphs that lifted their slogans straight from advertising, here appropriating a gas-company tagline. Her 1960s prints generally sell in the low-to-mid four figures.

The surprising fact is that a working nun produced some of the era’s brightest, most quietly political pop art. Signature, color freshness, and clean margins set the price.

Peter Max, cosmic posters (late 1960s)

Max flooded the late 1960s with kaleidoscopic posters, and by 1969 his face and cosmic style had landed him on magazine covers and a sprawling merchandise empire. Because print runs were enormous, most original 1960s posters remain inexpensive, often under a few hundred dollars, though signed examples and scarcer titles do better.

At his commercial peak he reportedly licensed dozens of different products at the same time. Fading, tears, and pin marks weigh heavily on what any given poster is worth.

Milton Glaser, Dylan (1966)

Glaser’s poster of Bob Dylan in silhouette with rainbow, paper-cut hair was folded into millions of copies of Dylan’s Greatest Hits, which is why the image turns up almost everywhere. That ubiquity keeps loose copies cheap, often under a few hundred dollars, but clean, uncreased or signed examples reach into the four figures.

Glaser based the profile on a self-portrait silhouette by Marcel Duchamp. Fold lines and fading are the usual condition problems.

Martin Sharp, Mister Tambourine Man (1967)

Australian artist Martin Sharp printed his swirling Dylan portrait on gold foil for Big O Posters in London, and the design was later collected by MoMA. The reflective foil surface scratches and creases easily, so unblemished copies command a real premium.

Examples typically sell from a couple hundred dollars to well over a thousand depending on condition. The feature that sets it apart is that it was printed on gold foil rather than ordinary paper.

Wes Wilson, Fillmore posters (1966-67)

Wilson designed the early Bill Graham Fillmore posters, and his melting, barely legible lettering effectively invented the psychedelic poster look. Common titles in average shape sell for a few hundred dollars, while scarce first printings in top grade reach into the thousands.

Wilson was paid modestly for defining an entire visual era and eventually broke with Graham in a dispute over payment. Printing, grade, and any trimming separate the values.

Victor Moscoso, Neon Rose (1967)

Moscoso, trained at Yale under the color theorist Josef Albers, deliberately paired clashing complementary colors so his Neon Rose posters for the Matrix club would appear to vibrate on the wall. First printings generally bring several hundred to a couple thousand dollars, and more when signed.

The twist is that he consciously broke every rule Albers taught, using colors of equal value on purpose to jar the eye. Later reprints are worth far less, and condition is critical.

Rick Griffin, Flying Eyeball (BG-105, 1968)

Griffin’s poster for a 1968 Jimi Hendrix run at Winterland and the Fillmore, showing a winged eyeball streaking over a barren landscape, is the most coveted rock poster of the era. A first printing graded 9.8 sold for $175,000 at Heritage Auctions in 2023, a record for a psychedelic poster.

Ordinary lower-grade first printings still bring thousands, while later reprints are a small fraction of that. That record beat the previous psychedelic-poster high by roughly $40,000, and grade and printing are everything.

Stanley Mouse and Alton Kelley, Skeleton and Roses (FD-26, 1966)

Mouse and Kelley adapted a Victorian illustration of a rose-draped skeleton for this Grateful Dead poster promoting shows at the Avalon in 1966. A first printing sold for $56,400 through the Psychedelic Art Exchange in 2019.

First printings generally bring thousands, while later reprints are far cheaper and often given away by small design changes. The source image comes from Edmund J. Sullivan’s illustration for a 1913 edition of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, and condition and printing dominate value.

Bonnie MacLean, Fillmore posters (1967)

Largely self-taught, MacLean took over the Fillmore poster series after Wes Wilson left and produced striking symmetrical designs through 1967 and 1968. As one of the very few women working in the scene, her posters have drawn growing collector attention in recent years.

Examples typically sell from a few hundred dollars to well over a thousand, more when signed. She was married to promoter Bill Graham at the time, and condition, printing, and grade set the range.

The Beatles, Yellow Submarine poster (1968)

The film’s posters drew on German designer Heinz Edelmann’s art direction, translating the animated look into bold graphic sheets. Original 1968 posters vary widely by country and format, and clean examples run from several hundred dollars to several thousand, with the rarer national variants higher.

The detail worth knowing is that Edelmann’s design, not the Beatles themselves, gave the film its instantly recognizable look. Folds, restoration, and reprints heavily affect value.

Tadanori Yokoo, silkscreen posters (1968)

Japanese designer Tadanori Yokoo fused traditional woodblock imagery, advertising, and psychedelia into silkscreen posters that entered MoMA’s collection while he was still young. His 1960s work surfaces at specialist auctions, where examples have sold in the low-to-mid four figures, one 1968 poster tied to MoMA fetching about $4,250 at Swann Galleries.

He was often compared to Warhol despite working an ocean away, and his color and provenance drew Western attention early. Condition, printing, and documented history guide the price.

The Throwaways That Kept Their Value

What links these objects is that almost none were made to be collected. Soup cans, gig flyers, gallery mailers, and printed tin were cheap, current, and disposable, which is precisely why clean survivors are now scarce.

The market rewards the copies that somehow dodged sunlight, thumbtacks, and the trash.

Condition, printing, and a signature still decide whether a given sheet is worth a few hundred dollars or a few hundred thousand. Before paying up, it pays to learn how to tell a first printing from a reprint and an original signature from a stamp, because in this corner of the market those distinctions are the whole game.

The images were designed to catch the eye for a single night, and the ones that lasted now more than hold their own in the salesroom.

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