A THOUSAND WORDS - Alex Waterhouse-Hayward's blog on pictures, plants, politics and whatever else is on his mind.




 

Slide Soft Your Silver Floods With La Rêveuse
Friday, March 27, 2015


March 27 2015

Slide soft you silver floods
And ev'ry Spring
Within these shady woods;
Let no bird sing,
         
Slide soft you silver floods
And ev'ry Spring
Within these shady woods;
Let no bird sing,
But from this grove a turtle dove
Be seen to couple with his love:
But silence on each dale and mountain dwell,
Whilst that I weeping bid my love farewell.

You nymphs of Thetis' train,
You mermaids fair
That on these shores do plane
Your seagreen hair,
As you in trammels knit your locks
Weep ye, and force the craggy rocks
In heavy murmurs through broad shores tell
How that I weeping bid my love farewell.
Henry Lawes - 1595-1662



English Cavaliers - Left the American Jeffrey Thompson & right the Frenchman Bertrand Cuiller

Sometime in 1962 I heard Jazz Samba with Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd.

Sometime in the 1980s I played a new cassette tape featuring Pablo Casals directing a super quick interpretation of Bach’s Second Brandenburg Concerto.

On November 28, 2008 I heard Olivier Messiaen’s A Quartet for the End of Time.

In 1964 in Buenos Aires I was offered a taste of marvelous peach yoghurt.

Tonight I heard an Early Music Vancouver presentation of Songs of an English Cavalier with  the French group La Rêveuse featuring American tenor Jeffrey Thompson at the Orpheum Annex.

All of the above are first times. First times (that first love and many more firsts) by definition happen only once and if the experience is a pleasant one they can only be topped with new ones.

One who would disagree is La Rêveuse harpsichordist, Bertrand Cuiller who has played versions of tonight’s concert many times. He told me that he never gets bored and every time is almost a first time as he discovers new insights that he might have overlooked in previous concerts.

I am not too sure of this but since I am not a musician I will believe him. I can assert that as a photographer who has taken thousands of photographs, every time I point my camera on a human subject I experience a thrill that almost matches a first time.


Bertrand Cuiller, Florence Bolton, Benjamin Perrot & Jeffrey Thompson


The concert opened with a grand, everybody-on-stage pre-concert talk moderated by Early Music Vancouver Artistic Director MatthewWhite.

Since White is an extremely reputable counter tenor he knows about singers and singing. He can identify with other baroque singers and can ask the right questions or interject with smart stuff.

As I heard this active panel (a super excited Jeffret Thompson) and the more staid Frenchies I thought of Jesuit Pierre Teilhard deChardin’s Phenomenon of Man which I read sometime in 1964 in Buenos Aires. In it Chardin explains how Darwin’s evolution works in a special way. He says that you must picture a dense wall with a small round hole. At the hole you throw a small ball. The chances that the ball will go through it are slim. But if you have a bagful of balls and you throw them all at once a few will get through. Evolutionary progress works in that manner.

In my years in Vancouver I have noticed a steady slide of excellence into mediocrity. You rarely get large examples of passion and virtuosic performance. And when it happens few will be aware as our media has retracted to near oblivion.

I have noticed how Early Music Vancouver, Turning PointEnsemble, the VSO under Branwell Tovey, the Pacific Baroque Orchestra under Alexander Weimann have changed my ill perception of my city’s cultural affairs. Four men, Matthew White, Turning Point’s Owen Underhill, Alexander Weimann and Bramwell Tovey have all thrown lots of balls on that evolutionary hole of excellence.
What has transpired is an anting up of quality and performance. We are getting the best performers from around the world and local musicians, some very good ones are following suit.
In short the musical standards in our city have notched up because these men (and the women who perform in these orchestras) demand perfection.

Last night’s Songs of an English Cavalier was a night that amply proved my suspicions. And before I forget I must add people like Emily Molnar at Ballet BC and Arty Gordon at the Arts Umbrella Dance Company and our theatrical directors like Bill Millerd at the Arts Club Theatre Company and Christopher Gaze at Bard on the Beach who are doing the same anting up at dance and theatre.

Jeffrey Thompson sang like nobody I have ever heard before. He was theatrical, he was lyrical, and he gestured with passion and even shouted some of the lines while his smiles and laughs became contagious. Watching the three French musicians, the elegant harpsichordist, the quietly passionate viola da gambist and the theorboist playing all those favourite grounds (while Thomson rested for his next song (when he sang on his bench it was romantic or sad. When he stood up there were fireworks in the performance).

The panel told us that the English composers (mostly Henry Lawes, 1595 -1662) were at a crossroad between the polyphonic Renaissance period and the monophonic Baroque. Just like other crossroad (transitional) composers like Haydn and Mozart (neither Baroque nor Classical) can be boring if performed in some standard manner, many think that Hawes and company in the same vein. “Not so,” say Mathew White and Jeffrey Thompson. With attitude and passion Hawes and Haydn are exciting and fresh today as when their music was first performed.

To me it is ironical that here we had a concert of rare (to a Vancouver audience) English music played so well by a French group and sung by Rochester-born American Thompson. Part of the irony was explained by Benjamin Perrot who mentioned that the fortunes of lutes and lutenists had suffered a decline in the 17th century in England until it all changed with the arrival of French lutenist Jacques Gaultier to England in 1617. The lute and lute playing became a new craze.

I must point out that rarely can you hear the sounds (the beautiful sounds) of a theorbo (a very big lute) as it is usually drowned out by violins and cellos. But with Cuiller’s laid back harpsichord and Florence Bolton’s viola da gamba (and that special small treble viola da gamba) this was a real trio and  treat to my ears, especially so since I was up front next to the stage.

This first time will have a close second time. As I drive on Sunday morning on my way to photograph virtuoso baroque violinist Monica Huggett in Portland I will be listening to the dynamic quartet's music on my car radio. This second time will be helped by the images of the four as they performed last night. The music will provide me with fine memories. But as John Irving wrote in The World According to Garp, "Imagination is better than memory."

That Frenchman from Calvados, Bertrand Cuiller would smile and agree.








the viola da gamba

The theorbo




The treble viola da gamba


the treble viola da gamba
















A Thousand Ships To A Thousand Ports
Monday, March 23, 2015


Emma Slipp

I had a slightly embarrassing moment last Sunday when I attended a matinee performance of Iceland at the Presentation House Theatre. After the show, a lovely woman with an equally lovely smile said to me, “How are you Alex?” It took me a while to figure out she was Emma Slipp whom I had photographed a few days before (see links below). My initial excuse (while my brain worked overtime attempting to remember) was to utter, “I have consumed lots of drugs and alcohol. My memory is spotty.” But in a short time (that seemed centuries) I was able to ask, “How are you Emma?”

Generally I have more than an average ability to recognize faces, even faces I have not seen for many years. I explained to Slipp that her face was much like that of a chameleon and it could change at will for anybody with an ease that would defy credulity.

I thought of the many films of Marilyn Monroe (Slipp and Monroe share salient features that are mostly of the curvaceous kind) and how in each one of them her face was different.  I do not of any other actresses whose faces I cannot recall at an instant. One could be Paulette Goddard.

In any case I am sure that if the Greeks would have gone to war for a Helen that looked like Slipp their ships would have sailed to many destinations and Troy would have been saved.  


You could get to like that face a lot

And don't call me Annie  
You didn't have to be rough 
Two beauties



Iceland - A Non Sequitur For Modern Times
Sunday, March 22, 2015


Munish Sharma, Lindsey Angell & Georgia Beaty - March 22 2015


What does the play Iceland (directed by Kathleen Duborg) written by Ottawa-born Nicolas Billon set in Toronto, modified to reflect Vancouver have to do with real-estate, Allen Ginsberg and a new modification of the expression, the non sequitur? And what does is say about race relations in this city of immigrants?

Plenty if you take the plunge, cross one of the bridges to North Vancouver and see the play at the Presentation House Theatre and then visit the show of the photographs of Allen Ginsberg upstairs at the Presentation House Gallery.

I was lured to see this play with my North Vancouver friend Ian Bateson as the excuse to cross that bridge. I told him of the wonderful actress (I am old-fashioned) Lindsey Angell who often appears in plays that push the comfort zone (Venus in Fur). In this day and age of low media exposure of plays and other activities of the arts I knew of the play because I happen to be on Angell’s email list. Thank you Angell for that!

My friend Ian found certain parts of the play odd. Perhaps this was so as the play is not exactly linear and rarely do any of the three actors (Lindsey Angell as Kassandra, Georgia Beatty as Anna Godwin and Munish Sharma ad Halim) interact with each other.

Another interesting feature of this show is the increasingly evident use of choreography (I first noticed this some years back in a play by the Electric Theatre Company that listed Crystal Pite as the choreographer). The actors first move onto the stage occupied by two plastic chairs and a long white sofa. They move back and shift their positions with the grace of modern dancers and so it goes until the end.

Somehow this play brought in the Vancouver housing situation as if I were reading it in the newspapers. The play is about two immigrants and the token white person from here (Anna Godwin). Halim is the un-turbaned East Indian (is he from India or Pakistan?). Kassandra is the cliche hooker from the former Soviet Union (Ukraine, perhaps?) who is not, as she is from Estonia.

I will not go any further to explain the plot except that the “aha! moment” happens when Kassandra from her vantage point of being in a tub in underwear(?) as she tells her story mentions that Anna Godwin enters the bathroom and reaches for the toilet paper on the wrong side.

You are warned by an extremely English young man (with whom I shared little of my language that I call English) before the play opens that we will listen to foul language that is appropriate to the plot. A warning to those who might be shocked but it does involve a meticulously folded American 100 Dollar bill slipped into a woman’s tongue after swallowing.

By the standards of the more staid Arts Club Theatre productions the language in Iceland is indeed foul. But in the mouth of Halim, as played by Munish Sharma it almost sounds normal.  He is a charmer you would never want your daughter to ever meet nor would I ever buy a used car from him.

From my vantage point of first-row-centre the three actors were intense. In the darkness they would stare (I thought at me) and I would uncomfortably move in my seat. No matter how easy it is supposed to be I am always amazed when an actor (Lindsey Angell in this case) cries on demand. As she was uttering a long ramble in Estonian the tears were smearing her eye makeup. Georgia Beaty in her very red hair was a sight to behold as she held on to her hands struggling to tell us her story of a lost home. 

I photographed the cast in their dressing room explaining that I have been doing this sort of pseudo selfie for a while. I did not know that once upstairs I would find that indeed I have this penchant for mirror selfies to have had a parallel with Allen Ginsberg.

I first and lastly heard Ginsberg recite his poetry (and play his awful concertina) sometime in the late 70s at the PNE. I was with (coincidence) Ian Bateson. I did not like Ginsberg and his companion Peter Orloff even less. Perhaps it was my distancing from the American conflict in Vietnam as I thought  no Canadians had anything to do with it. Orloff seemed to be angry and obsessed with Vietnam. And of course now  we cannot afford to distance ourselves from conflicts in other parts of the world.

Just like in the 70s I hated any classical music that was not baroque I found no connection with the beat poets, etc.

And of course with age comes a bit of tolerance and the broadening of horizons. Perhaps it was my love for the books of Charles Bukowski that brought me closer to the beats and helped me appreciate them. It was my friend William Gibson who informed me his writing had been inspired by William S. Burroughs. It was the Life Magazine photographer Harry Redl, who befriended me a couple of years before he died, who told me of his many photographic sessions with the beat poets that brought me around.

And I have Allen Ginsberg to thank for my love for one of my favourite Canadian poets, Gerry Gilbert. He was the warm-up act at the PNE. His voice, a matter-of-fact sort of voice, his rhythm and his language simply charmed me to appreciate poetry. From Gilbert it was easy to move to WilliamCarlos Williams and others.

And thanks to Iceland, my trip to North Vancouver exposed me to the wonderful photographs (better photographer than a concertina player) of Allen Ginsberg. There are photographs of people I have read like R.D. Lang and of photographers that I admire, Robert Frank, a killer photograph of Lou Reed of Richard Avedon and another of Yevtushenko.

It is interesting to note here that almost every photograph has a wide lower white border on which Ginsberg explains in great detail what you are looking at. It seems that his idea came from his friend, photographer Berenice Abbott.

As for anything that leaves you in a quandary and without explanation just say, “Iceland” and nobody will understand your meaning. If you want to find out be aware that the play runs until the 29th.



Allen Ginsberg - Self-portrait



Is there a connection between Ginsberg and Iceland? I found many. Below is one.

Allen Ginsberg & translation into Icelandic with Eiríkur Örn Norðdahl on Wednesday 28.1 at 18:00

Dear friend of Arkadia, You are warmly invited to join a talk on the American poet Allen Ginsberg with Eiríkur Örn Norðdahl and Mathias Rosenlund on Wednesday 28.1 at 18:00. Eiríkur has recently translated and published into Icelandic selected poems by Ginsberg. Among other topics he will discuss with Mathias the difficulties of translating English poetry into uniform Icelandic as well as the complexity of translating the legendary opening lines of Ginsberg’s poem Howl. He will also explain how Ginsberg’s poetry has influenced his own writing. Welcome! Warm regards, Ian Bourgeot P.S: Entrance is free and green tea will be served Eiríkur Örn Norðdahl was born in Reykjavík on July 1st 1978. He finished his secondary education in Ísafjörður in the Westfjords in Iceland in 1999 and later studied German in Berlin in 2003. As well as being a writer, Eiríkur has done a number of jobs through the years, taught at grade school, done painting jobs at a ship yard, been a night guard at a hotel, worked at homes for handicapped people, been a caregiver at old people’s homes, a cleaner at a cruise ship and a chef at a day care center, to name some. He is one of the founders of Nyhil, a publishing house that focuses on writings by young people and also organizes various cultural events. Mathias Rosenlund is working on a Master’s Degree in Nordic literature at Helsinki University. He has a particular interest in 20th century Central European and American literature.



Why Are We Here?
Saturday, March 21, 2015



Christopher Staats, Shelina Kent, Gary Taylor, David Kent and Susanne Tabata washing her hands


My days of going to loud establishments, even when the bands playing are extremely good, are over.
I picked up Susanne Tabata at her home and we rendezvoused at Falconetti’s on Commercial Drive. We were greeted by the indomitable shark (like a shark he can never sit still) Gary Taylor who confessed to me, “I have a short attention span.” With us at the table were brother and sister Shelina and David Kent. The former was a luminous dancer in the 70s and early 80s, the latter a renowned anaesthesiologist who works and teaches in Alberta.

We were served a sumptuous assortment of Falconetti sausages with dipping sauce. They had red wine and I abstained.

During the whole evening (not a very long one) we kept voicing this question, “Why are we here?” The answers were varied. But fun was had and it was one of those moments that I savour as a photographer in meeting a former subject after not having seen her (Shelina) for 35 years.

We ran into the seasonal Santa Claus and sometime Colonel Sanders but very good-photographer-most-of-the-time, Wayne Wiens. I confessed to the Filipino father of the daughter (as Taylor put it) who (the daughter of the father) was the lead singer of a good band that my nickname was Supot. The father of the daughter roared with laughter.

To cement an evening of fun I summoned Falconetti’s manager Christopher Staats to clear the women’s bathroom so I could take my group photograph.

As I looked at the smiling faces of my companions I had to point out that it was wonderful that we were all alive.

Why were we there?  Because.



Anne & Don't Call Me Annie - The Cop's Daughter
Friday, March 20, 2015




On April 8, my Rosemary and I are attending the opening performance of Aaron Bushkowsky’s play Farewell My Lovely  which is an adaptation of Raymond Chandler’s 1940 noir novel. It will be at the Arts Club Theatre’s Granville Island Stage.

Ever since my mother and father took me to see noir films from the 40s in Buenos Aires I have been fascinated will all things noir.

Around 1983 as I wrote here I bought a worthless, red leatherette collection of the novels of Raymond Chandler. I have read all at least twice and my favourite, Playback many more times.
Through the years I have attempted with my camera to take photographs in the  spirit of the novels of Chandler and Dashiell Hammett.


Mrs. Merwin Lockridge Grayle - Illust. Paul J. Crompton
 When I received, some months back, my little Arts Club Theatre promotion card announcing the opening (after a successful run in Calgary) of Bushkowsky’s Farewell My Lovely I got very excited.

My excitement went beyond expectation when I found out that actress (sorry not actor and I am sure that Marlowe would agree) Emma Slipp was playing Anne Riordan. In the novel she is not the flashy blonde femme fatale but the kind of woman that Marlowe almost falls for.

I wrote to Slipp suggesting that we might shoot for fun with the theme that she plays Anne Riordan.
I took my photographs yesterday ably assisted by makeup man Ghassan Shanti. I am extremely happy with the results.

When I first photographed Slipp last year for the Georgia Straight’s Fall Arts Preview, she had lustrous black and wavy hair. I was surprised (and ever so slightly disappointed) that the folks in charge of making the play did not suggest she dye her hair red as Anne Riordan is definitely a redhead in the novel.

To prepare for the session I took our from Limelight Video (if there is another copy of this film anywhere else in town I don’t know about it) the 1975 Dick richards colour Farewell My Lovely with Robert Mitchum, Charlotte Rampling (the only woman I would leave my wife for), that favourite Canadian actor John Ireland, Harry Dean Stanton and a very young Sylvester Stallone.
The film is extremely good and I don’t care if people say Mitchum is too old to play Marlowe. They are simply out to lunch. But the film was shocking in that Anne Riordan was eliminated!

I also prepared for the session by re-reading Farewell My Lovely with stickies. I placed stickies whenever Riordan appeared. For a couple of blogs here and here I used these quotes.

But I want to stop all this and simply run many of the pictures I took.



For the session I used a Mamiya RB-67 Pro-SD with a 140mm lens and with two backs one loaded with Ilford F-P4 Plus and the other with the long discontinued (but available in my fridge) Kodak Technical Pan. Both are b+w films. On a venerable circa 1960 Asahi Pentax 35mm camera with a 55mm f-2 lens I used Fujicolour 800 ISO colour negative film. When I scan this film which I exposed to my flash’s tungsten lights (3200 Kelvin) and did not use the flash the results will mimic the lurid Technicolor of the 1975 film. I also used my digital Fuji X-E1. The pictures in this blog are only from that camera.

For most of the photographs I used three lights (with flash and tungsten modeling lights). One was a circular, focusing spotlight and the other two were equipped with grids to narrow the beams dramatically. If you note in some of the pictures you will find that there are two catchlights in Slipp’s eyes. One is from the spotlight (high above to cast that shadow under her nose). The other is called a kicker and it fills in slightly the deep shadow under Slipp’s face on her neck. Sometimes I omitted the spotlight (aimed it at her hat) and used only the kicker light on her face. The ones with the netting in front of her face were shot like that.

In between the long session we had good loose tea and Rosemary’s store-bought (Safeway!) lemon cake.

So here are the pictures of one remarkable dame (Marlowe would approve of my use of that word).


You could get to like that face a lot.
Raymond Chandler & Rembrandt 
American Noir - Raymond Chandler 
Raymond Chandler - Just About Perfect
















You Didn't Have To Be Rough
Thursday, March 19, 2015



Emma Slipp as Anne Riordan - Makeup - Ghassan Shanti - March 18 2015



I put my wallet away again, clipped my own flash to my pocket and reached suddenly for the little gun she was still holding in the same hand with the flashlight, but I got the gun. She stepped back quickly and I reached down for the light. I put it on her face for a moment, then snapped it off.

‘You didn’t have to be rough,’ she said, putting her hands down into the pockets of a long rough coat with flaring shoulders.
Farewell My Lovely - Raymond Chandler

You could get to like that face a lot.
Raymond Chandler & Rembrandt 
American Noir - Raymond Chandler 
Raymond Chandler - Just About Perfect
Don't call me Annie



     

Previous Posts
Slide Soft Your Silver Floods With La Rêveuse

A Thousand Ships To A Thousand Ports

Iceland - A Non Sequitur For Modern Times

Why Are We Here?

Anne & Don't Call Me Annie - The Cop's Daughter

You Didn't Have To Be Rough

You Could Get To Like That Face A Lot

Two Beauties

Curtis Daily - Contrabassist

Bob Mercer - Editor - Musician - Friend



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9/27/09 - 10/4/09

10/4/09 - 10/11/09

10/11/09 - 10/18/09

10/18/09 - 10/25/09

10/25/09 - 11/1/09

11/1/09 - 11/8/09

11/8/09 - 11/15/09

11/15/09 - 11/22/09

11/22/09 - 11/29/09

11/29/09 - 12/6/09

12/6/09 - 12/13/09

12/13/09 - 12/20/09

12/20/09 - 12/27/09

12/27/09 - 1/3/10

1/3/10 - 1/10/10

1/10/10 - 1/17/10

1/17/10 - 1/24/10

1/24/10 - 1/31/10

1/31/10 - 2/7/10

2/7/10 - 2/14/10

2/14/10 - 2/21/10

2/21/10 - 2/28/10

2/28/10 - 3/7/10

3/7/10 - 3/14/10

3/14/10 - 3/21/10

3/21/10 - 3/28/10

3/28/10 - 4/4/10

4/4/10 - 4/11/10

4/11/10 - 4/18/10

4/18/10 - 4/25/10

4/25/10 - 5/2/10

5/2/10 - 5/9/10

5/9/10 - 5/16/10

5/16/10 - 5/23/10

5/23/10 - 5/30/10

5/30/10 - 6/6/10

6/6/10 - 6/13/10

6/13/10 - 6/20/10

6/20/10 - 6/27/10

6/27/10 - 7/4/10

7/4/10 - 7/11/10

7/11/10 - 7/18/10

7/18/10 - 7/25/10

7/25/10 - 8/1/10

8/1/10 - 8/8/10

8/8/10 - 8/15/10

8/15/10 - 8/22/10

8/22/10 - 8/29/10

8/29/10 - 9/5/10

9/5/10 - 9/12/10

9/12/10 - 9/19/10

9/19/10 - 9/26/10

9/26/10 - 10/3/10

10/3/10 - 10/10/10

10/10/10 - 10/17/10

10/17/10 - 10/24/10

10/24/10 - 10/31/10

10/31/10 - 11/7/10

11/7/10 - 11/14/10

11/14/10 - 11/21/10

11/21/10 - 11/28/10

11/28/10 - 12/5/10

12/5/10 - 12/12/10

12/12/10 - 12/19/10

12/19/10 - 12/26/10

12/26/10 - 1/2/11

1/2/11 - 1/9/11

1/9/11 - 1/16/11

1/16/11 - 1/23/11

1/23/11 - 1/30/11

1/30/11 - 2/6/11

2/6/11 - 2/13/11

2/13/11 - 2/20/11

2/20/11 - 2/27/11

2/27/11 - 3/6/11

3/6/11 - 3/13/11

3/13/11 - 3/20/11

3/20/11 - 3/27/11

3/27/11 - 4/3/11

4/3/11 - 4/10/11

4/10/11 - 4/17/11

4/17/11 - 4/24/11

4/24/11 - 5/1/11

5/1/11 - 5/8/11

5/8/11 - 5/15/11

5/15/11 - 5/22/11

5/22/11 - 5/29/11

5/29/11 - 6/5/11

6/5/11 - 6/12/11

6/12/11 - 6/19/11

6/19/11 - 6/26/11

6/26/11 - 7/3/11

7/3/11 - 7/10/11

7/10/11 - 7/17/11

7/17/11 - 7/24/11

7/24/11 - 7/31/11

7/31/11 - 8/7/11

8/7/11 - 8/14/11

8/14/11 - 8/21/11

8/21/11 - 8/28/11

8/28/11 - 9/4/11

9/4/11 - 9/11/11

9/11/11 - 9/18/11

9/18/11 - 9/25/11

9/25/11 - 10/2/11

10/2/11 - 10/9/11

10/9/11 - 10/16/11

10/16/11 - 10/23/11

10/23/11 - 10/30/11

10/30/11 - 11/6/11

11/6/11 - 11/13/11

11/13/11 - 11/20/11

11/20/11 - 11/27/11

11/27/11 - 12/4/11

12/4/11 - 12/11/11

12/11/11 - 12/18/11

12/18/11 - 12/25/11

12/25/11 - 1/1/12

1/1/12 - 1/8/12

1/8/12 - 1/15/12

1/15/12 - 1/22/12

1/22/12 - 1/29/12

1/29/12 - 2/5/12

2/5/12 - 2/12/12

2/12/12 - 2/19/12

2/19/12 - 2/26/12

2/26/12 - 3/4/12

3/4/12 - 3/11/12

3/11/12 - 3/18/12

3/18/12 - 3/25/12

3/25/12 - 4/1/12

4/1/12 - 4/8/12

4/8/12 - 4/15/12

4/15/12 - 4/22/12

4/22/12 - 4/29/12

4/29/12 - 5/6/12

5/6/12 - 5/13/12

5/13/12 - 5/20/12

5/20/12 - 5/27/12

5/27/12 - 6/3/12

6/3/12 - 6/10/12

6/10/12 - 6/17/12

6/17/12 - 6/24/12

6/24/12 - 7/1/12

7/1/12 - 7/8/12

7/8/12 - 7/15/12

7/15/12 - 7/22/12

7/22/12 - 7/29/12

7/29/12 - 8/5/12

8/5/12 - 8/12/12

8/12/12 - 8/19/12

8/19/12 - 8/26/12

8/26/12 - 9/2/12

9/2/12 - 9/9/12

9/9/12 - 9/16/12

9/16/12 - 9/23/12

9/23/12 - 9/30/12

9/30/12 - 10/7/12

10/7/12 - 10/14/12

10/14/12 - 10/21/12

10/21/12 - 10/28/12

10/28/12 - 11/4/12

11/4/12 - 11/11/12

11/11/12 - 11/18/12

11/18/12 - 11/25/12

11/25/12 - 12/2/12

12/2/12 - 12/9/12

12/9/12 - 12/16/12

12/16/12 - 12/23/12

12/23/12 - 12/30/12

12/30/12 - 1/6/13

1/6/13 - 1/13/13

1/13/13 - 1/20/13

1/20/13 - 1/27/13

1/27/13 - 2/3/13

2/3/13 - 2/10/13

2/10/13 - 2/17/13

2/17/13 - 2/24/13

2/24/13 - 3/3/13

3/3/13 - 3/10/13

3/10/13 - 3/17/13

3/17/13 - 3/24/13

3/24/13 - 3/31/13

3/31/13 - 4/7/13

4/7/13 - 4/14/13

4/14/13 - 4/21/13

4/21/13 - 4/28/13

4/28/13 - 5/5/13

5/5/13 - 5/12/13

5/12/13 - 5/19/13

5/19/13 - 5/26/13

5/26/13 - 6/2/13

6/2/13 - 6/9/13

6/9/13 - 6/16/13

6/16/13 - 6/23/13

6/23/13 - 6/30/13

6/30/13 - 7/7/13

7/7/13 - 7/14/13

7/14/13 - 7/21/13

7/21/13 - 7/28/13

7/28/13 - 8/4/13

8/4/13 - 8/11/13

8/11/13 - 8/18/13

8/18/13 - 8/25/13

8/25/13 - 9/1/13

9/1/13 - 9/8/13

9/8/13 - 9/15/13

9/15/13 - 9/22/13

9/22/13 - 9/29/13

9/29/13 - 10/6/13

10/6/13 - 10/13/13

10/13/13 - 10/20/13

10/20/13 - 10/27/13

10/27/13 - 11/3/13

11/3/13 - 11/10/13

11/10/13 - 11/17/13

11/17/13 - 11/24/13

11/24/13 - 12/1/13

12/1/13 - 12/8/13

12/8/13 - 12/15/13

12/15/13 - 12/22/13

12/22/13 - 12/29/13

12/29/13 - 1/5/14

1/5/14 - 1/12/14

1/12/14 - 1/19/14

1/19/14 - 1/26/14

1/26/14 - 2/2/14

2/2/14 - 2/9/14

2/9/14 - 2/16/14

2/16/14 - 2/23/14

2/23/14 - 3/2/14

3/2/14 - 3/9/14

3/9/14 - 3/16/14

3/16/14 - 3/23/14

3/23/14 - 3/30/14

3/30/14 - 4/6/14

4/6/14 - 4/13/14

4/13/14 - 4/20/14

4/20/14 - 4/27/14

4/27/14 - 5/4/14

5/4/14 - 5/11/14

5/11/14 - 5/18/14

5/18/14 - 5/25/14

5/25/14 - 6/1/14

6/1/14 - 6/8/14

6/8/14 - 6/15/14

6/15/14 - 6/22/14

6/22/14 - 6/29/14

6/29/14 - 7/6/14

7/6/14 - 7/13/14

7/13/14 - 7/20/14

7/20/14 - 7/27/14

7/27/14 - 8/3/14

8/3/14 - 8/10/14

8/10/14 - 8/17/14

8/17/14 - 8/24/14

8/24/14 - 8/31/14

8/31/14 - 9/7/14

9/7/14 - 9/14/14

9/14/14 - 9/21/14

9/21/14 - 9/28/14

9/28/14 - 10/5/14

10/5/14 - 10/12/14

10/12/14 - 10/19/14

10/19/14 - 10/26/14

10/26/14 - 11/2/14

11/2/14 - 11/9/14

11/9/14 - 11/16/14

11/16/14 - 11/23/14

11/23/14 - 11/30/14

11/30/14 - 12/7/14

12/7/14 - 12/14/14

12/14/14 - 12/21/14

12/21/14 - 12/28/14

12/28/14 - 1/4/15

1/4/15 - 1/11/15

1/11/15 - 1/18/15

1/18/15 - 1/25/15

1/25/15 - 2/1/15

2/1/15 - 2/8/15

2/8/15 - 2/15/15

2/15/15 - 2/22/15

2/22/15 - 3/1/15

3/1/15 - 3/8/15

3/8/15 - 3/15/15

3/15/15 - 3/22/15

3/22/15 - 3/29/15