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




 

Beans & Tortillas
Saturday, August 26, 2017



Hilary

My eating habits are a product of my upbringing in Buenos Aires. As a young boy I knew enough to accept that as Roman Catholics we could not eat meat (a tough thing in Argentina) on Fridays. So my mother had our live-in housekeeper Mercedes Bazaldúa cook either pejerrey (silverside fish) or merlusa (hake). Mercedes usually cooked them breaded. Neither of these fish are fishy. If anything with a bit of lemon and salt that’s about all you taste.

My mother used that old trick of attempting to feed me tuna fish saying it was just like chicken. It wasn’t and I could always smell it when she tried to hide it in some dish.
Seafood including shrimp was an expensive commodity so I never ate it. It was an unpleasant surprise to suddenly be in Mexico City and be exposed to fishy fish, including sardines and (ugh) anchovies.

Now in Vancouver I will eat scallops, shrimp, red snapper and barbecued salmon. That is only a slight improvement according to my Rosemary and two daughters.

Rosemary handles everything important in our life except for the cooking. I am the cook. This is a tough job as Rosemary eats “como un pajarito”.  Of late because of our advanced age into the 70s we go on binges and then we will no longer eat again those faves.

A year and a half ago we had a house warming and I ordered many boxes of very good pizza from a store on West Broadway near MacDonald. I have not returned since. Rosemary and I used to gobble up Mars Bars and Butterfingers. Those have been gone for some years.

Rosemary was most keen on Manila mangoes. Now the desire for them is almost controlled.
In our Athlone house I would get into bed in the evening with a plate of Gruyere cheese dabbed with good mustard. I would pass through my mind the savvy words of Les Wiseman, “Whatever you eat in the evening will be with you in the morning.”

Finally the heavy move from Athlone to Kits had me go from the first hole in my  belt to my fourth. I feel much better.

Part of this has to do with my daughter Hilary who will be 46 this December.

She manages the wellness department of the new Burquitlam Safeway  on North Road. She gives talks on the subject every couple of weeks on Saturdays at 2. I have been learning lots.
We now use coconut or avocado oil with a spare use of a good Spanish olive oil. We no longer use grape seed or Mazola and God forbid canola!

Thanks to Hilary’s advice we eat a healthy diet and feel better for it.

This is a long way from an incident many years ago at the plush St.Francis Hotel in San Francisco. We had driven to the city from Mexico City in our VW Beetle. We taught English at Camino Real Hotels in Mexico City so we had a deep discount at the St. Francis. Hilary who was around 3 was screaming. Our waiter in a tuxedo approached our table and asked, “How can I help the little lady?” My Rosemary answered, “Only if you have beans and tortillas.”

Bless you Hilary.




That Pingüino in the Arctic
Friday, August 25, 2017


Ivanova & Juan Manuel Sánchez


In the 20th century my world included Kodak, Ektachrome, Perutz, Adox, Ferrania, Agfa, Portriga; Mirandas, Konicas, and Steinheil lenses. I admired Pontiacs, Borgwards, Motorola radios, Shure cartridges and jazz groups I loved whose members were all alive.

It may have ended for me when Ahmad Jamal came to rent a car at Tilden Rent-A-Car on Alberni Street. I asked him if he was ever going to switch to an electric piano. He swore he never would.

For me the beginning of the slide in my life began some years ago when J.J. Johnson came to the Vancouver Jazz Festival. Jazz etiquette would have dictated that as the eldest statesman trombonist that he was he should play last. This would of course then include an encore. The powers that be of the festival put singer Cassandra Wilson last.

Some years later I went to the Iridium Club in New York City and I was able to invite Johnson and bassist Rufus Reid for a chat over drinks. With a smile he did admit having been miffed at the Vancouver Jazz Festival. A few years later having been diagnosed with a painful and terminal cancer Johnson shot himself. 

I felt devastated by this as he was a man of elegance, brilliance and taste.

Elegance, brilliance and taste seem to be a rarity in my world of 2017.

I constantly tell my wife and friends what architect Abraham Rogatnick used to tell me a couple of years before he died (he opted not to pursue treatment of his prostate cancer), “I am not long for this world and I am glad of it.”

As one’s world fades and vanishes that word of the 60s, alienation, comes back to haunt me. I feel alienated in my present world.

My mother smoked as did my mother. By the time I was 20 I was putting Edgeworth tobacco in my pipe. It may have been about 25 years ago where I suddenly got the idea that smoking was stupid. I believe I stopped because I lost interest.

Tannia at the Arch


This did not prevent me from taking the photograph of the lovely woman smoking in bed. It was many years ago in some cheap hotel in Texas where I found a sign in my room that indicated, “If you smoke in bed the ashes that fall on the floor may be your own.”

So photographs of anybody smoking are verboten as are films that show noir-like women doing it.

As a 75 year-old man who was raised with American Westerns in which charging US Cavalry always saved the day, I believe I could never again see any of them with people who are not my contemporaries. Would Stagecoach pass muster? Would any films with John Wayne get a green light these days? Would the stories of the American Civil War by Ambrose Bierce be allowed in school?

My world is one that is shrinking and I worry how my granddaughters will manage in this new world that I do not see as a brave one but as a cautious one.

The other photograph here shows my former artist friend (he died two years ago in Buenos Aires) Juan Manuel Sánchez sketching Ivanova who was not wearing anything. For Sánchez this was a perfectly natural endeavour. He told me it would be the same for me. I am not sure. But soon I will no longer have to be concerned as the asymptote will finally touch the y-axis.

Before Sánchez returned to Buenos Aires he told me, "I feel like a penguin in the Arctic." I understood then and I understand now.



Art Nuko - He Told Us So
Thursday, August 24, 2017




Malcolm Parry as editor of Vancouver Magazine from June 1974 to December 1987 and August 1989 to September 1990 had the door to his office open at all times. People from everywhere, be they painters, politicians, thugs, wrestlers, writers, ladies of the night, etc and etc were ushered in with no, “Do you have an appointment to see M Parry?”

Because in those days the magazine was thick with editorial paid by advertising there were many photographers and illustrators dropping in.

One of them was Carl Chaplin who was a master of the air brush. Because of my receding neurons (none are being replaced) my memory for the man is spotty.

 He often talked on how we were going to be soon obliterated by nuclear bombs. He told us (at the magazine) that he was going to go to the Yukon Territory and live in an underground bunker. Around 1986 he was known as Art Nuko because he published a series of postcards featuring major cities (in brilliant, lurid colour) with an atomic bomb mushroom about to devastate them.

I have one postcard for which I paid $1.00. His webpage will not open so I wonder if he is alive or perhaps smiling in his northern bunker as we all wonder if President Trump is going to press a button.

Addendum:

I called up Thor Froslev at the Brackendale Art Gallery and he told me Chaplin is alive and well and living in Chase, BC.

This site is working



My Rosemary - The Plant Snob
Wednesday, August 23, 2017



Hibiscus trionum August 23 2017


My mother was a snob. She often would say to me in her precise Castilian, “Hay poca gente fina como nosotros.” This roughly translates as, “There are few as refined people as we are.”

When I married Rosemary my mother instantly loved her. Perhaps it was because she was a quiet and introspective Canadian who happened to also speak Spanish and French. With her wonderful slim body Rosemary always looked elegant.

I have no idea how a person not related by blood to another could possibly inherit from her. And Rosemary did. Like my mother Rosemary has always had beautiful legs. Rosemary also inherited my mother’s ability to handle money under a strict budget.

But best of all like my mother, my Rosemary is a snob. In particular she is a plant snob.
For many years while we gardened in our Kerrisdale home, she eschewed plants that did not have blue or white flowers. It wasn’t until around 1992 that she fell for my Rosa ‘Westerland’ (she of synthetic apricot jam scent). Westerland was and is a brilliant orange! 

Hosta 'Marilyn' August 20 2017


A few years later as houses were being torn down right and left Rosemary and I would “liberate” plants in the middle of the night equipped with a wheelbarrow, a spade and a flashlight. One such liberation was a rose that came from the nearby street of Cartier so we called the rose (that had yet to bloom) Rosa ‘Cartier’. It bloomed a lurid orange/red. When Select Roses Brad Jalbert visited our garden he looked at the red/orange wonder and said, “I never would have thought that you and Rosemary would have Rosa ‘All that Jazz’ in your garden." Rosemary came to love those two orange roses and her snobbishness declined a tad.

For years we had two different and small hibiscus trees that were both blue. She would have never tolerated the red Hibiscus sabdariffay from which its sepals contribute to make the wonderful drink (served ice cold) Agua de Jamaica that is so popular in Mexico at children’s birthday parties.

But here we have my snobbish wife purchasing a small Hibiscus trionum which has creamy yellow flowers. What is most unusual is that the new flowers open in the morning and are long gone by the next. The plant has the delightful popular name of Flower-of-an-hour.

Because or Kitsilano garden is small I have more time and less area to observe my plants. One in particular is a little gold (yellow or chartreuse, take your pick) called Hosta ‘Marilyn’. 

Hosta 'Marilyn' August 20 2017


When our granddaughter Rebecca accompanied us to a hosta convention in Washington DC (she was 8) we were taking a rapid transit train. In our car was a woman that we recognized as being a person who was at that convention. To brag Rebecca told the woman, "My grandfather has Hosta ‘ June’. The woman countered with, “I have Hosta ‘Emily Dickinson’. From there to our delighted horror the two went after each other with the names of female hostas, Hosta ‘Janet’and Hosta ‘Marilyn’ and so on.

In the big garden Hosta 'Marilyn' was almost invisible in little sun and surrounded by big plants. Here in Kits she is glorious in her pot. Just a few days ago I spotted her elegant flowers.

Rebecca has many avenues to grow up to be a mature and snobbish woman!

The making of a snob 

A visit from the plant snobs



A Pair of Good Razors & No Wedding Shoes
Tuesday, August 22, 2017





Maxwell Davies, Peter
Miss Donnithorne's Maggot (1974)
Duration: 32 minutes
Music-theatre work for mezzo-soprano and ensemble

Text by Randolph Stow

Scoring
fl(=picc,afl).cl-perc(1):2susp.cym/BD/tpl.bl/4wdbl/tam-t/ football rattle/SD/bell tree/BD and cym with foot pedal/sandpaper/ glass wind chimes/police whistle/bosun's whistle/chamois leather rubbed on glass/balloon to pop/thunder sheet(tam-t)/glsp/marimba/crot -pft(=balloon)-vln.vlc-4metronomes set in motion by the players.


On Sunday I attended a concert which was part of this year’s Blueridge Chamber Music Festival. The one in question was a repeat (first last week at the Orpheum Annex) called Let Them Eat Cake featuring soprano Dorothea Hayley and a small ensemble, Paolo Bortolussi, flute, Jenny Jonquil, clarinet, Jasper Wood, violin, Rebecca Wenham (she of the baroque red hair), cello, Jeremy Chalk, piano, Manuel Laufer, piano and Katie Rife, percussion. The festival is co-produced by Dorothea (Dory) Haley and pianist Alejandro (my tocayo) Ochoa.


Rebecca Wenham, Dorothea Haley & Diana Park

The first part of the program was a palate cleanser before the big meal. It was Joseph Haydn’s Adianna a Naxos Hob.XXVlb:2. Haley was accompanied by Jeremy Chaulk on piano. I found this wonderful stuff on the composition. Who would have known that it involved a couple of sharp razors?

The second work, Sir Maxwell Davies’ Miss Donnithorne’s Maggot is a rare (from the point of view of this amateur) one-person and short opera that involves lots of acting and a few four letter words here and there including piss. The work if you happen to be curious enough to read the above-mentioned scoring included balloons and two (not four, perhaps to save a tad of money, but there could have been two more. From my vantage point I saw two) metronomes.The work is about a real woman, Eliza Donnithorne who was born in South Africa but lived in Australia in the 19th century. It seems she was jilted by a British naval captain. Scholars are pretty sure Miss Donnithorne was the inspiration for Charles Dickens' Miss Havisham in Great Expectations.

To add to the drama of the jilted and now crazy spinster was a dress designed by Diane Park, who also designed the dress for the Haydn. We had a tough time getting into the bathroom for the three shot. The dress hoop could not go through the door so Haley had to flip it up.


It is not often that one gets to listen to a modern opera and much less sung in its original English.

When Haley came to my studio last week to pose for some portraits she was apologetic about the fact that the concert was going to be held at a church.

With the Queen Elizabeth a white elephant and the Orpheum perhaps on its way in the same direction small venues are the future of music in our city. Thanks to intelligent programming Matthew White of Early Music Vancuver is able to fill the Chan Centre at least three times a year. It is the small venue like the Orpheum Annex and Pyatt Hall plus all those churches (in this case the lovely modern Mount Seymour United Church in North Van) that save the day for small ensembles who do their damn best to bring us stuff to push us into an awareness the culture in small packages can be as satisfying as the big ones.

Crazy Over Love 
Two (almost) crazy women




A New Project For 2018
Monday, August 21, 2017

Juan Manuel Sánchez & Nora Patrich



Luke 4:24 -King James Version

And he said, Verily I say unto you, No prophet is accepted in his own country.

My grandmother often said it in Spanish, “Nadie es profeta en su tierra.”


Today I was contacted by the Georgia Straight and asked if I was going to be available for my yearly (only one of) contribution as the photographer for the Straight’s Fall Art’s Preview. I have been doing this for at least 10 years.

I looked at my Rosemary and she nodded, “No.” At one time when I had to do awful retirement ceremonies for Canadian Pacific Limited (held at the Terminal City Club) I would look to her and her expression was a damning one that said, “We need the money. You go.”

That is no longer the case. But it still hurts. It all started with the debacle of magazines and newspapers going under and the moribund state of journalism in Vancouver. Then I let go of my studio on Granville and Robson as money coming in was less than money going out (a classic case of the leaky tank problem). The phone stopped ringing and soon I was aware that my career was as dead as that of DVD stores.

I held on to the Straight job with the idea that it made me at the very least minutely relevant. But today I finally figured out relevance, legacy and having a memorial park bench are three things I do not need for contentment and perhaps (who knows?) happiness.

I believe that after having worked with some of the best art directors of the magazine world not only in Canada but abroad that I am now a much better photographer than ever. But my kind of skill is not needed. At one time the Globe & Mail would contact me a week ahead to photograph some visiting luminary to our city. This, gave me time to research and plan my shoot. I compared notes with the then arts reporter Christopher Dafoe. We would then tackle the assignment together.

Now those people do not come. They opt for phoners or email interviews from LA and send a handout photograph. My kind of style is dead.

The secret for survival in our beautiful city is to never become bitter. If you are bitter you end up blaming others.

The secret (my secret and it is free for the taking) is to continue with what one does best in some different way.

Paradoxically my different way is to go back to my roots at around 2000 when I began exhibiting my photographs in local art galleries. I did that for 10 years and my Rosemary complained of the framing expenses. But she backed me up otherwise in an uncritical silence. Bless her.

Now my next project will be a joint show with Argentine artist Nora Patrich which will be in a lovely downtown gallery in Buenos Aires called Galería Vermeer. The owner of the gallery, Enrique Scheishon is below centre, with artists Alfredo Plank and Juan Manuel Sánchez A lot of the work will include joint colaboraciones and individual stuff rich in eroticism. This is stuff I cannot place in my blog or otherwise show in any gallery in this city. It will be a relief to exhibit in a third world country's city, Buenos Aires  (at least 15 million souls), where there is a tad more liberlism in how they view the arts. The word innapropriate is yet to enter their lexicon.


Alfredo Plank, Enrique Scheinsohn, Juan Manuel Sánchez

The show will combine our individual work and what we called and called “trabajos conjuntos” or “colaboraciones”. For quite a few years Patrich, her husband Juan Manuél Sanchéz and I worked on projects where we would combine drawings, sketches and photographs on subjects that centered on our longing for the nostalgic times of our pasts.

Nora Patrich, Roxana & Alex

Patrich will be in town, visiting from Buenos Aires where she now lives, this Saturday. On our agenda is to look through hundreds of photographs (postcard sized) she took of our colaborations with lovely models (of both sexes) in my studio, and other locations. I must admit that I am a bit embarrassed about them as most of the pictures have my rear end most visible as I stand behind my medium format camera. We are going to scan the best and they will be on a computer for our opening in August/September 2018 showing two artists and this photographer working.

Juan Manuel Sánchez died on October 6, 2016. I would equate him as an artist of the calibre (in our Canada) Jack Shadbolt but would add that Sánchez was an influential member of the Grupo Espartaco, artists who protested the governments of repression of Argentine military juntas through their art and with a rich output of murals.

Juan Manuel Sánchez 2016

It is irrelevant if I sell anything. What is important is that I am returning to my place of birth and perhaps both St. Luke and my grandmother are wrong.



     

Previous Posts
An Encounter with the Exotic at the York Theatre

Lauren & Casi-Casi Met Up

Edwin Varney - Unstampable

Edward Clendon River - Michael Turner & Modigliani...

Boeing 747 The Queen of the Skies

In Search of My Relevance With The Goblin Market

Marv Newland's Scratchy - Itching Us On

Rain

Cool Ember

In the Spirit of Guilhermina Suggia



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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

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

7/31/16 - 8/7/16

8/7/16 - 8/14/16

8/14/16 - 8/21/16

8/21/16 - 8/28/16

8/28/16 - 9/4/16

9/4/16 - 9/11/16

9/11/16 - 9/18/16

9/18/16 - 9/25/16

9/25/16 - 10/2/16

10/2/16 - 10/9/16

10/9/16 - 10/16/16

10/16/16 - 10/23/16

10/23/16 - 10/30/16

10/30/16 - 11/6/16

11/6/16 - 11/13/16

11/13/16 - 11/20/16

11/20/16 - 11/27/16

11/27/16 - 12/4/16

12/4/16 - 12/11/16

12/11/16 - 12/18/16

12/18/16 - 12/25/16

12/25/16 - 1/1/17

1/1/17 - 1/8/17

1/8/17 - 1/15/17

1/15/17 - 1/22/17

1/22/17 - 1/29/17

1/29/17 - 2/5/17

2/5/17 - 2/12/17

2/12/17 - 2/19/17

2/19/17 - 2/26/17

2/26/17 - 3/5/17

3/5/17 - 3/12/17

3/12/17 - 3/19/17

3/19/17 - 3/26/17

3/26/17 - 4/2/17

4/2/17 - 4/9/17

4/9/17 - 4/16/17

4/16/17 - 4/23/17

4/23/17 - 4/30/17

4/30/17 - 5/7/17

5/7/17 - 5/14/17

5/14/17 - 5/21/17

5/21/17 - 5/28/17

5/28/17 - 6/4/17

6/4/17 - 6/11/17

6/11/17 - 6/18/17

6/18/17 - 6/25/17

6/25/17 - 7/2/17

7/2/17 - 7/9/17

7/9/17 - 7/16/17

7/16/17 - 7/23/17

7/23/17 - 7/30/17

7/30/17 - 8/6/17

8/6/17 - 8/13/17

8/13/17 - 8/20/17

8/20/17 - 8/27/17

8/27/17 - 9/3/17

9/3/17 - 9/10/17

9/10/17 - 9/17/17

9/17/17 - 9/24/17

9/24/17 - 10/1/17

10/1/17 - 10/8/17

10/8/17 - 10/15/17

10/15/17 - 10/22/17