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




 

Casi-Casi at the Nuclear Cafe
Monday, July 25, 2016


Casi-Casi & Lauren Stewart

Today we took our cat, Casi-Casi for treatment of a hyper-thyroid problem.

Before I continue I will explain our 11 year-old’s name. When we chose him at the Vancouver SPCA 6 years ago he was called Cassie. I enquired as to why. I was told, “His real name is Casinova.” Since at the time Cassie was an 18 pounder almost as big as a house (casa in Spanish) I decided to combine all that with the name Casi. I like the repetition so he is Casi-Casi.

We could have treated Casi-Casi’s problem with two pills (one in the morning and one in the evening) for the rest of his life. Our SPCA Veterinarian Peter Lekkas (spends most of his living time explaining  to people that he is not French but Belgian) suggested that treating Casi-Casi with Iodine 131 while expensive would be the way to go.

And so we went to North West Nuclear Medicine for Animals (who would have known?) and left him until Saturday. They will inject him today but because of Canadian Health Standards they must keep him until the half-life of the iodine does it thing and he will be safe for us to have him home by Saturday. The vet explained that the radiation that the cat gets (should we worry?) amounts to that of what we would have after an airplane trip to Hawaii.

Casi-Casi meowed in his cat box in the back seat and as I looked at him it all confirmed that he solely depends on us. It is that dependency that makes having a cat so much of a pleasure.

And more so because Casi- Casi is most placid and never hisses or scratches at anybody, even children that may be new to him. He likes to fight with me but his bites are gentle and his zaps never cut. I have never trimmed his nails.

When we returned home neither Rosemary nor I said anything but it was most evident that a member of our family was missing.



Lynn Canyon - Air, Space & Water
Saturday, July 23, 2016







Today is an almost hot day. I long for the really hot days and the nights when I can sleep undraped on my bed sheet and languidly dream of my nights in tropical places like Mérida or the damp hot evenings of my Buenos Aires. 



It seems that this sort of heat only really happens a few days in August. But I plan to enjoy the heat of my eldest daughter’s home in Lillooet this coming week. Most in Canada must know that Lillooet and Lytton, BC vie for the hottest places in our country.

I do not believe that I am an old lizard or snake who wants to bask in the sun. In my two years in the Argentine Navy we conscripts had to wear heavy dark blue woollens until some silly admiral decided that winter was over and spring was around the corner. My sailor mates all pointed out that I seemed to be impervious to the heat and that I did not sweat. 

Perhaps in a previous life I was a snake or a lizard.

I went into my files today looking for pictures that would put me in the mood of a truly hot day refreshed by cold and very pure water.

When my Argentine relatives ask me about the charms of Vancouver I always answer with these words, “Air, space and water.”

There is no place that somehow reflects all those three than the long and meandering Capilano River at about the place where the Lynn Canyon Bridge crosses it. 








Las Veinte y Veinticinco
Friday, July 22, 2016




Era una calurosa noche de verano, un 26 de julio de Vancouver.  Me acosté. No podía dormir. Estaba inquieta. Dormitaba. Me perseguía un persistente sueño. Estaba en una capilla ardiente. Había gente vestida de negro. Yo estaba acostada y podía discernir una combinación de olor de velas y de gladiolos.  Hacía frío. Tenía escalofríos. Era un frío invierno porteño. Mi cuerpo lo sentía helado.

Al fin me dormí. Me desperté con la realidad de que anoche había soñado que yo era Eva Perón.

"Veinte y veinticinco, hora en que Eva Perón entró en la inmortalidad." 



Six-Shooters
Thursday, July 21, 2016


Rick Etkin jpg, July 20, 2016


A couple of weeks ago I ran into photographer Larry Goldstein at Southlands Nursery. As we chatted I realized how much I missed and miss my contemporaries of a photographic heyday that preceded the proliferation of the camera with the accessory phone.

And so I came up with the idea of inviting a few of them to my home so we could shoot the bulb (only those who preceded the camera with the accessory phone will understand that expression) to our heart’s content and compare notes about how we had huge day rates and were sent abroad on shooting assignments.

We had our pleasant barbecue with wine and beer yesterday (Wednesday).

Besides Larry Goldstein I invited Hans Sipma, Rick Etkin, Roger Brooks and Heather Dean. It was Etkin who pointed out that this bunch of old timers (Dean excepted as she just turned 30 and who happens to have a 15-year-old son) were in the original CAPIC members of yore.

Of the six (I must include myself) the bravest is Dean who used to hang out of helicopters in rigs that would induce vertigo on anybody. She took the ultimate photograph of the Shaughnessy Crescent (an oval not quite round park) and risked being shot down by police helicopters when she and her pilot husband skimmed Wreck Beach for a photograph for Malcolm Parry’s Vancouver Magazine.

Of Larry Goldstein, a self-effacing photographer who says he doesn’t shoot far out stuff but pleases all his clients with efficiency, accuracy I can only add that if most photographers were like him we would be considered a likeable bunch.

Rick Etkin is always ahead of everybody in cutting edge technology with the possible exception of Hans Sipma. Etkin was the first local photographer with a cell phone and he was and is the kind of photographer with a studio that makes those of us who work out of our home drool. As far as I can tell he is the only photographer in this city who ever bragged in his web page that he could photograph from the smallest to the largest and mentioned locomotives on the way.

Roger Brooks is the kind of interiors and architectural photographer who happens to know his craft because he studied to be a civil engineer but then decided to chuck the bridges and take the kind of shots that until the advent of digital cameras made his kind of photography extremely difficult and very hard to light correctly. But even though he made and makes lots of money he did lose his shirt once and took a most artistic kind of photograph of the lost shirt that was the marvel of light and composition.

Hans Sipma would be a millionaire if he had not squandered for so many years his hard-earned money from ad agency jobs in very expensive Italian bicycles and the clothing getup that accompanied them. Sipma may have been the first (and last as nobody could top the shot) to make the Vancouver Planetarium almost make it to the Kuiper Belt with rockets in one of the most memorable manipulated photographs I have ever seen. When you talk to Sipma (and Brooks, too) you realize that he is a seriously funny guy.


Sitting- Rick Etkin & yours truly, Standing from left, Larry Goldstein, Roger Brooks, Heather Dean & Hans Sipma - Photograph by Rosemary Waterhouse-Hayward

The best has to be last and that’s Heather Dean. I once had the luck of traveling next to her both ways from Vancouver to Calgary. It was (and still) is remarkable how a person allergic to everything except rice cakes and tinned pears can look so wholesomely healthy. Her ah-shucks and most pleasant smile almost manage to hide her prodigious skill in her camera work.

Watching these four (Dean like me is a bit high-tech deficient) do stuff with their cameras that have a phone as an accessory made me feel like Graham Greene. Of Greene, Paul Theroux said, “An Edwardian on a Concorde.” I felt completely out of their league and particularly in how Etkin took a picture of my picture with my venerable medium format camera (that alas! has no accessory phone attached) and instantly posted it into Instagram and shared it with all of us on the spot.

I did not sleep well last night. Two photographers, Etkin and Sipma were whispering in my ear, “Don’t shoot JPGs. Shoot RAW.”

The evening was so pleasant that I am sure we will all meet again and soon. If Etkin has his say it will be a baker's dozen.






Physics, Inertia & Art - Nora Patrich
Wednesday, July 20, 2016





Newton's first law of motion states that "An object at rest stays at rest and an object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force." Objects tend to "keep on doing what they're doing."

From the above law which I learned in college in my physics courses (I thought I wanted to be an engineer) I came to realize that inertia as I saw it was simply a resistance to motion. A resistance to move.

For close to 10 years I had a happy relationship with two Argentine painters (Nora Patrich & Juan Manuel Sánchez). They were a couple where inertia was simply “to stay in motion”. I would call them late at night with suggestions of possible collaboration. They never denied any of them and we worked together with all sorts of “colaboraciones”. Our best was one where the three of us and another photographer (also Argentine) Claudia Katz spent close to a year taking pictures, sketching and painting one very beautiful Argentine woman called Linda Lorenzo. The result was a big show on South Granville called Nostalgia.


Bellavista, Buenos Aires - April 2016

After that, we kept at it even if our collaborations did not see print or a gallery wall. The important task was mutual inspiration.

Some 7 or 8 years ago the Argentine artists, Patrich and Sánchez separated and moved back to Buenos Aires.

It was then that I came to realize how inertia seemed to affect my artistic life in Vancouver. It was an inertia where I could not move and I hit walls when I advanced an inch or so.

Since they left I have been active taking my personal portraits, of family and friends and quite a few female nudes. I know I can never show them anywhere. Somehow our city has become more prudish in its still inertia.



To escape my artistic doldrums I visit Patrich and Sánchez (she with her new partner Roberto Baschetti in the Buenos Aires suburb of Bellavista, he in his downtown studio on Paraguay Street and Talcahuano. Of Sánchez here and here). When I am there I am met with smiles and the promise of projects which in some cases are stymied by the geographic distances. But some of our ideas might see the light of day soon.

The above is simply my excuse to place here photographs of Nora Patrich in her studio in Bellavista.


I wonder where I can find that brand of enthusiasm in Vancouver? 

I remember many years ago when I attempted to sell Marlene Cohen (I had been hired by her to take her portraits) some of my artsy Mexican photographs. She opened a blind in her large plate glass window overlooking beyond Wreck Beach in her house on Marine Drive leading to UBC and said, “Why would I want to buy any of those when I can look at this every day?”


Roberto Baschetti & Nora Patrich



Objectivity - A Subjective Invention Of Man
Tuesday, July 19, 2016


Molly Parker & Lynne Stopkewich

Sometime in the early 70s I atended a lecture in Mexico City by Spanish/Mexican anthropologist Santiago Genovés. He had been part of Thor Heyerdahl’s Ra I and Ra II expeditions across the Atlantic. The lecture was interesting but most of all I will never forget a statement that Genovés made about the futility of historical objectivity by historians during and after historical events. Genovés said, “We must not forget that objectivity is a subjective invention by man.

I watch CNN and MSNBC and read my daily NY Times and Vancouver Sun always with that Genovés dictum in my mind.

But if you take the statement to a limit you cannot even agree with any one other person if you both agree that a shade of red is exactly the same between the two different pair of eyes.


My mother often told me, “Alex, you will never understand because you will never be a mother.” And yet she could not understand my deep demonstrative love to a scary alcoholic father (he was always sweet to me). It was only after my mother died in the early 70s that it occurred to me that I had never thought to tell her, “Mother you will never understand because you will never be a father.”
But Plato and other philosophers postulated of pure ideals, essences that had numerous material shadows of those essences in our human world, one that became a sphere after centuries of having been flat.

I believe that one of the few aspects of our material world that depends on that Platonic idea of an essence is the idea of pure art. I don’t buy statements that “anything can be art” or “it is art if I say its art.” I believe that somewhere inside of us lives an idea of that essence that is art.
As an old fashioned and obsolete (redundant, too) human from the past century I avoid art exhibitions that mention the word installation.

I remember and cringe a show at Emily Carr Institute of Art (as it was called then) that featured in its lobby a full-scale replica of a doctor’s waiting room complete with a stack of boring magazines. Could I buy such an installation and hang it in my living room?

I also don’t buy anything (and I mean anything by) that nude sartorial artist pair Christo Vladimirov Javacheff and Jeanne-Claude.

I keep most of the ideas above to myself and I don’t rant about what is art and what isn’t.

It is far more fun and better to use up one’s time attempting to figure out what is in other people’s heads.


As an only child I never had brothers or sisters (until I discovered I had a half brother at a Buenos Aires police Station in 1966). I only had one grandparent, my grandmother and I enjoyed having a father for a scarce and sparse 10 years of which the first few disappeared in my baby memory.

I have two daughters. One of them has two daughters. My wife has a sister. I often wonder about the relationship these people, dear to me have for each other. How do you talk to your sister be it my wife, my daughters or my granddaughters?  Is there anything I could learn from that sort of relationship? What am I missing out on?

Proof that my interest in these matters can have a fruitful result happened some years ago after I photographed actress (I am old-fashioned and like using that word as well as aviatrix and dominatrix) Molly Parker and a director (Parker made two films with her) Lynne Stopkewich. I noticed that they seemed to have a special relationship based on the friendship between the two women they were (and of course my mother would have added, “Alex, you will never understand because…”. I asked them to come to my studio and that I would attempt to capture (and a pre-digital use of that digital term is appropriate here) that relationship.

We tried everything and nothing worked. I gave them a rest. During the break they did something. I told them not to move and shot a Polaroid. It was perfect. We all agreed. I then proceeded to repeat that very shot with b+w film and with transparency (slide) film.

I cannot explain nor begin to understand what these two women were able to share by the fact that they were women and friends. But I can ascertain that my photographs do reveal a bit of that. And I can say with some certainty that I am being objective.

Boot camp instincts  
The metamorphosis of death and Kissed 



Style
Monday, July 18, 2016




In my long career (1976 until recently perhaps 2008 when magazines collapsed) as a magazine photographer I dealt with very good art (called also design) directors with the best magazines in Canada, the US and Europe. One of the best ones was (is as he is alive and well) Rick Staehling. I worked with him in a city magazine, a business magazine and finally a travel magazine. Staehling went to a very good design school, Art Center in Los Angeles, so he had an excellent background. He also looked at many magazines and had a fondness for Esquire.

I remember that sometime in the late 70s I showed up at his Vancouver office with my brand new Mamiya RB-67 Pro-S. I told him that this was the ideal magazine camera as it had interchangeable film backs (I could shoot colour and b+w) and that the generous 6x7 cm format had an extra feature.  I could rotate the film back from vertical to horizontal which meant I would be more likely to watch my back and shoot for any conceivable situation be it a cover, a two page spread or a full bleed page vertical.

Staehling said nothing but called me a few weeks later, “Alex, you know that new-fangled camera you showed me? I think I have a job for it.” I have no memory of what that job was but that Mamiya was one of the secrets of whatever success I subsequently had even when I told other photographers who seemed to like their more expensive Hasselblads that took that un-magazine like square format.

During the years I developed several lighting styles to fit situations. I became very good with the small (not quite 2x3 ft. soft box. Part of my technique was and is to use it very close to my portrait subject. I became bored with this style and opted for Hollywood style hard lights, focusing spotlights, Fresnel spotlight and grid spots.

Staehling became tired with this experimentation of mine and told me to stick to the soft boxes.
This is where we got into a massive argument and I have to admit that many years later he was absolutely right.

For me the Holy Grail of photography is the distinctive personal style. One should be able to look at a photograph and guess who took it or at the very least discern the influencing photographer. I told Staehling that the soft box was a difficult light to use if one wanted a distinctive personal style. He adamantly disagreed and since he was the man calling me for the jobs I succumbed to his instructions.

Now in 2016 just about any lighting style has disappeared. Photographers take the camera ads seriously and that with a Nikon GX-Mark III-F (equipped with overdrive) anything is possible once you hold the camera in your hands. It can do everything.

Because of this there is a proliferation of street photography, wildlife photography, sunsets, fireworks, etc. But I see little well or interestingly lit portraits.

In a basic camera course the average person must understand that the problem with photography is that it has to show the reality we see in only two dimensions. When you use a flat or central light on a person the overall look does not suggest the curves of a person’s face and thus that depth that is the third dimension.

I am showing here a portrait I took of Bronwen Marsden with my Mamiya RB-67 Pro SD and that aforementioned soft box equipped with one flash.

The decisive moment



     

Previous Posts
Casi-Casi at the Nuclear Cafe

Lynn Canyon - Air, Space & Water

Las Veinte y Veinticinco

Six-Shooters

Physics, Inertia & Art - Nora Patrich

Objectivity - A Subjective Invention Of Man

Style

Cain's Stone - La piedra de Caín

With Obama, the Personal is Presidential

Photography - The Limited Range of Our Memory



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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

3/29/15 - 4/5/15

4/5/15 - 4/12/15

4/12/15 - 4/19/15

4/19/15 - 4/26/15

4/26/15 - 5/3/15

5/3/15 - 5/10/15

5/10/15 - 5/17/15

5/17/15 - 5/24/15

5/24/15 - 5/31/15

5/31/15 - 6/7/15

6/7/15 - 6/14/15

6/14/15 - 6/21/15

6/21/15 - 6/28/15

6/28/15 - 7/5/15

7/5/15 - 7/12/15

7/12/15 - 7/19/15

7/19/15 - 7/26/15

7/26/15 - 8/2/15

8/2/15 - 8/9/15

8/9/15 - 8/16/15

8/16/15 - 8/23/15

8/23/15 - 8/30/15

8/30/15 - 9/6/15

9/6/15 - 9/13/15

9/13/15 - 9/20/15

9/20/15 - 9/27/15

9/27/15 - 10/4/15

10/4/15 - 10/11/15

10/18/15 - 10/25/15

10/25/15 - 11/1/15

11/1/15 - 11/8/15

11/8/15 - 11/15/15

11/15/15 - 11/22/15

11/22/15 - 11/29/15

11/29/15 - 12/6/15

12/6/15 - 12/13/15

12/13/15 - 12/20/15

12/20/15 - 12/27/15

12/27/15 - 1/3/16

1/3/16 - 1/10/16

1/10/16 - 1/17/16

1/31/16 - 2/7/16

2/7/16 - 2/14/16

2/14/16 - 2/21/16

2/21/16 - 2/28/16

2/28/16 - 3/6/16

3/6/16 - 3/13/16

3/13/16 - 3/20/16

3/20/16 - 3/27/16

3/27/16 - 4/3/16

4/3/16 - 4/10/16

4/10/16 - 4/17/16

4/17/16 - 4/24/16

4/24/16 - 5/1/16

5/1/16 - 5/8/16

5/8/16 - 5/15/16

5/15/16 - 5/22/16

5/22/16 - 5/29/16

5/29/16 - 6/5/16

6/5/16 - 6/12/16

6/12/16 - 6/19/16

6/19/16 - 6/26/16

6/26/16 - 7/3/16

7/3/16 - 7/10/16

7/10/16 - 7/17/16

7/17/16 - 7/24/16

7/24/16 - 7/31/16