A grave marker is a small thing beside a photographic archive. But when the marker is unreadable, even the name behind the pictures can slip from view. George Herman Rothrock’s old headstone at Mesa Cemetery had weathered until it was difficult to read. On 26 October 2026, just over 102 years after his death, members of the Arizona Photography Alliance unveiled a replacement.
Rothrock was born in Missouri and worked as a photographer in California before heading west. The Arizona Historical Society records him opening a studio in Phoenix in 1877. He photographed portraits as well as the towns, landmarks and mining camps of Arizona. An interview with photographic historian Jeremy Rowe describes his wider regional work from about 1875 to 1890.
The photographs that stand out are his stereoscopic views. Rothrock made more than 250 different titles, according to Rowe. Each view used a pair of photographs, taken from slightly different positions. Look through a stereoscope and the two flat prints resolve into a scene with depth. It was a nineteenth-century way to bring distant places into the parlour, long before anyone could surf to a gallery on the World Wide Web.
Making those pictures was a substantial field job. Rowe describes wet-plate photography: glass plates coated with collodion, sensitised, exposed and processed while still wet. The photographer had to carry the plates and chemistry, along with water and the camera gear. For Rothrock’s views beyond the studio, that meant transporting a fragile, cumbersome outfit by horse, burro or wagon.
The Arizona Historical Society’s collection guide lists 153 original images attributed to Rothrock, including stereocards, cabinet cards and mounted prints. Some of the original glass plate negatives no longer exist; surviving prints and cards are therefore important records in their own right. The collection includes scenes of Phoenix, landmarks and communities across the territory.
There is another reason the new marker matters. Rowe notes that Rothrock’s images have often been reproduced without credit or without an explanation of their stereo format. A headstone bearing a portrait and an example of his work makes that attribution visible in a place where it had nearly disappeared. The Alliance raised more than $3,500 through member work and donated collectables to fund the replacement.
For photographers, the stereographs are a reminder that every format has its own way of describing space. Rothrock was not just recording what stood in front of his lens; he was arranging a view for two lenses and a viewer, so that foreground and distance would separate when seen together. The result was made for a particular device and a particular sort of looking.
A century later, a legible marker gives visitors a starting point. From there, the archive does the rest: a name, a set of photographs and a sense of the work involved in making them.
Sources
- KJZZ interview with Jeremy Rowe
- Arizona Historical Society: George H. Rothrock Photograph Collection guide (finding aid)
- Arizona’s Family report on the new grave marker
- PetaPixel’s report on Rothrock