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




 

The Warmth of Mexico - Part VII - Ana Victoria
Saturday, March 10, 2018






In 1975 my wife Rosemary, our two Mexican-born daughters Alexandra and Hilary and I moved to Vancouver from Mexico City. We drove in our Beetle.

The first difference I noticed as we drove on Kingsway was that cars had muted colours and the city was muted, two. The mountains were blue green and the sky was cyan blue. Overall in comparison to the Mexico we had left Vancouver felt icy cold.

 In 1977 I still felt the pull of Mexico so I traded with Mexicana de Aviación, tickets anywhere in Mexico in exchange for some slides. Some of the photographs that I took in Yucatán of Chichen Itzá, Tulum and Uxmal became my first published photographs in a long defunct Vancouver travel magazine.

I have looked at these Kodachromes and what is most interesting is that the ruins are free of crowds and I even have pictures of the nighttime Light & Sound show at UxmaI. I  had brought my medium format Mamiya RB-67 with the only lens I had for it at the time, a wide angle (for the format) 65mm. Because all archaeological zones are regulated by the INAH (Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia) the adamantly prohibit the use of tripods. I remember using the plastic chairs to rest my Mamiya to take time exposures!

I  went to Oaxaca where there was a week-long festival. I went to city hall to get my accreditation for taking pictures. The noisy hall held many photographers and writers lining up for the same accreditation.




Suddenly there was silence in the room. It seemed to be an apparition. A striking woman dressed in native clothing and wearing lots of silver jewelry, walked into the room, past the long line and got her permit immediately. I inquired who she was and I was told she was the writer for the magazine Siempre

Siempre is a unique magazine that publishes articles from the political left and the political right. It has some intelligent editorial cartoons and most Mexicans (I can only speak for men here) read Siempre at the barber shop. I left with my own accreditation with the image of that unearthly beautiful woman in my head.

That afternoon while I was shooting some native dancers, the Siempre correspondent and an older woman kept getting in my way until I told them off. The older woman said I was rude but both moved on.

Later on when I was strolling in the zócalo I spotted the two women having lunch in an outdoor restaurant. I cannot understand exactly what happened but suddenly I was facing them and I heard myself telling the correspondent that I wanted to photograph her. She introduced herself as Ana Victoria and told me that the other woman was her mother. She asked me to pass by her hotel after siesta.

She appeared in a  beautiful Oaxaca dress and it didn't take me long to realize she was wearing no underclothing. I attempted to take her pictures but was having a difficult time. Her gaze was unnerving.

She told me that she was in Oaxaca to educate native women on natural and herbal contraceptives. She said she was flying in a small plane the next day for a rest at Puerto Escondido and asked me if I wanted to come along.

I explained that I had a tight schedule and that I had to be in Mérida that day. I declined. It was at this point that Ana Victoria told me something that I have never been able to forget or shake off.

"Most men are robots trying to pass as humans. Your tragedy is even worse. You are a human doing his best to be a robot. You are an extension of that device that you call a camera."



The Warmth of Mexico - Part VI - Raúl Defragments His Life
Friday, March 09, 2018


Raúl Guerrero Montemayor
Mexico DF, 1967



I have been writing a series of blogs with the title The Warmth of Mexico. I felt this rush of nostalgia for a country where I lived for many years when in our (with my Rosemary) recent trip to Mérida I found the lovely and inspiring book Nahui Olin by Adriana Malvido.The five previous segments are all about women.  It was time to write about a man, a friend, a mentor Raúl Guerrero Montemayor.  My portrait of him here could never mask his warmth and positive attitude towards life.

I met him in the early 60s and after my two year stint as a conscript in the Argentine Navy I returned to Mexico confused as to how I would procede with my life. It was Raúl who invited me to stay with him and taught me the Berlitz method for teaching English. He educated me into the European arts, introduced me to his Hungarian baroness friend and was a witness at Rosemary and my wedding in Coyoacán, Mexico. He is also the godfather to our younger daughter Hilary.

With Raúl we conversed in fashionable cafés in the Zona Rosa. We went to art shows and discussed the intricacies of language and how they affect how we read books.

But this was his best quality. When I needed advice I went to him. With his fine baritone he would say, "Si esto es lo que quieres, cómpralo," or "If this is what you want,  buy it." He always gave me the advice I wanted and expected to get. Without Raul alive in Mexico City I really do not know anybody there. My family is gone. But perhaps I might return and find a remaining warmth from my memory that would surely introduce me to new friends with that warmth that only Mexico can give.


A Friend Defragments His Life
Thursday, December 27, 2012

Not too long ago I was describing to a friend my method before I photograph someone I have never met. This often happened in my Vancouver Robson Street Studio which was at the corner with Granville. The building has been torn down. I told my friend that I would scan my subject and note positive features and negative features. After a few short minutes I knew (very important) what I could not do. What was left was what I could do. I likened this machine-like method to that of a computer. It was then that my friend said a most startling thing, “No, not like a computer, but a computer scans like a human being. You must thus say it is very human.”

This process also brings to mind the very early Star Treks (Odisea del Espacio in my Mexico City of the late 60s) with their onboard computer that only Mr. Spock seemed to know how to use. The computer had an almost (but not quite) sexless/synthetic voice that would utter stuff like, “Computing,” “Cannot compute, not enough information.” When it was the latter it was exactly as it was a few years later at the banks when my teller would say, “I cannot help you Mr. Waterhouse-Hayward, our computers are down.” There was a finality that went along with the preciseness of the zeros and the ones and with no space for anything in-between.

As I sat with my friend in Mexico City last week, a friend who has an incurable prostate cancer we talked about our mutual pasts, our mutual friends and asked each other questions which began, “Whatever happened to…?

My friend was an elegant man who spoke many languages and had traveled the best and most beautiful cities of Europe and the Orient. As he lay in bed I saw his many pairs of shoes and loafers and knew that they as well as his beautiful suits and sweaters were toast.

By the wall there was a watercolour that resembled Tulum in Mexico. But it was not so. It had been given to him by the Hungarian countess and it was a picture of Ragusa, now known as Dubrovnik. I told my friend I had been in Dubrovnik and I had visited the nearby island of Lokrum where Maximilian, the Emperor of Mexico installed by the French in the 1860s had had a summer home. I told him I had seen an ashtray with the ashes of his last smoked cigar before he went to Mexico and his eventual fate in front of a firing squat at the Cerro de Las Campanas in the now State of Querétaro.

My friend helped me buy a coffin for my dead mother and somehow was present when we buried my grandmother Lolita near Cuernavaca in the State of Morelos.

My friend insisted on telling me the story. It seems that two “pelados” (ordinary men) were tripping over the ground in an effort to take my grandmother’s coffin to its resting place. My friend indicated we should help and the four of us finished the job with efficiency. My friend said, “I could not but think that your grandmother who was a haughty woman would have approved of the fact that the two lowly men were being helped by two of a better class.”

We spoke of going to see French films at the Cine Chapultepec on Paseo de la Reforma in Mexico City. We refused to see the close to one hour of government propaganda news reels (featuring presidents of Mexico cutting ribbons to the latest Social Security hospital). This meant that there were few seats left and we would sit in separate areas of the theatre. When the inevitable bidet jokes happened we could hear each other laugh. We were the only ones who knew about bidets.

My friend and I spoke of many other things. He was exhausted and he would fall asleep. I would walk back to my hotel to freshen up and return for another bout of conversation.

Flying back, with the memory of his tears as I said goodbye to him I suddenly came to me that a man unlucky enough to suffer from the indignity and pain of prostate cancer has one positive advantage going. This is an ability to tie loose ends, order one's life, the past as best as one can, and to make sure that the future is an easy one for those who are left to deal with the eventual paperwork needed to handle a dead man. For such a lucky man, death is no longer a surprise but something that is faced slowly, little by little until resignation settles in (I am guessing here).

By being with him I was helping him defragment his life. Files were being pushed back and forth. Loose ones were placed with others.

After defragmenting one’s life the body may be exhausted but the mind will be lightened, loosened up and ready for what may follow.

We defragment our computers. This is an extremely human activity which a computer can only, at best, mimic.









The Warmth of Mexico - Part V - Ivanova
Thursday, March 08, 2018





Ivanova was a Mexican woman in Vancouver who was studying criminology because she wanted to be a policeman. I photographed her in the home of Argentine painters Juan Manuel Sánchez and Nora Patrich. 

Ivanova had a voluptuous body, one that her Mexican counterpart, Manuel Álvarez Bravo would have savoured and appreciated. I am not sure if in his later years Bravo used the 4x5 camera he inherited from the Italian-born Tina Modotti when she was expelled from Mexico for being a communist. Modotti had been given the camera by Edward Weston when he left Mexico for California. 

There is a nice symmetry there for which my ancillary photographs of Ivanova in the nude, alas cannot be shown here.




Ivanova had the look of Mexico in her face. There was something about her mouth and those lips that conjured hot earth for me. Not the humid earth of my mother’s port city of Veracruz but the dry desert heat of Nueva Rosita, Coahuila where I lived when I was 16.

When I asked Ivanova to cover her breasts with her hands, a terrible cliché! - there were those long fingers of her hand that made me think of Coatlicue:

Coatlicue is multifaceted. As Coatlicue she is the Aztec earth goddess, creator and destroyer of earth, mother of gods and mortals, the one who gave birth to the moon and stars.
Time Magazine

With Juan Manuel Sánchez





The Warmth of Mexico - Part IV - Indiana the Face of Mexico
Wednesday, March 07, 2018



The Warmth of Mexico III
The Warmth of Mexico II 
The Warmth of Mexico I

 My Vancouver dentist is Doctor Ben Balevi. He is also a Chemical Engineer. He is smart.

One day I asked him something I had my doubts about. He confirmed it saying something like this:

“At one time you could examine a live or dead person’s mouth and know by the dental work their country of origin. Now this has become more difficult.”

The world is definitely becoming like the bread, the only bread they used to sell at Safway when we arrived in Vancouver from Mexico in 1975. It was mostly white, bland. It tasted like cardboard. That is no longer the case at our nearby Kitsilano Safeway. The variety and quality of their bread is superb.

On the other hand, at the end of that lovely shopping street that is Calle Florida,  corner with the equally interesting and historically famous Calle Corrientes there is a beautiful baroque building that houses a Burger King. Once inside you could be anywhere in the US, Canada and who knows perhaps even Iceland.

Something like this is happening (but very slowly) with the look of nationalities.

Twenty or thirty years ago if I saw a young man (and not so young) at an airport wearing grey flannel pants, a blue blazer with metal buttons and penny loafer sans socks I would have identified them (100%) as Argentine. 




That is now become a bit more difficult for me. I have to listen to a few words of their Spanish or note their accent when the speak English.

In Vancouver in 1975 I was in a state of confusion when I spotted what looked like Mexicans on the city streets. I would begin conversations in Spanish and only when I noted the blank looks did I find out that they were Native Canadians.

For too long I had banked on the incorrect and improper classification of “red Indians” and the “yellow” Japanese. But strange for me to insist here that in those days of my youth people from India (in spite of their colour) where listed as Caucasian. And I then knew, because my mother was born in Manila that Filipinos, Indonesians and Malaysians were not Chinese but of the Malay race.

Now with my knowledge settled I find that the recent influx of people from Iran makes me think some of them are Mexican. And of course, they are not!

In our recent trip to Mérida, Yucatán I found it a supreme pleasure when we arrived at the Mexico City airport to be surrounded and see Mexicans, that I knew to be Mexican. And even better it was to watch the inhabitants of Mérida and note that their profiles were Mayan. They looked like ancient Mayans in spite of the fact that some of them might have been wearing Levis.

I am still very good (in spite of Iranians, etc) at spotting the nationalities of Latin America.
I first met Indiana Luna years ago when I took Argentine Tango lessons from Carlos Loyola. Luna is almost 6ft tall but her face can only be of Mexican heritage. “Tiene ese no sé qué,” or that quality that you cannot quite pin down.

Luna has an alto voice and legs from here to there. She is not fragile. She was booted from an American boarding school of beating up a fellow classmate.


A tango voleo
I liked to dance with Luna because she wore long, tight and black dresses with slits on the side. When I danced with her nobody noticed my efficient dancing (and no more than that) because all eyes would be on her.

She posed for me a few times. Now looking at those pictures after my trip to Mérida reinforces my idea that Mexico has a face and her face is Mexico.



The Warmth of Mexico - Part III - De Ojos Claros y Divinos
Tuesday, March 06, 2018





Possibly my eventual writing about the wonderful book, Nahui Olin by Adriana Malvido that I bought in our recent trip to Mérida will become a reality as I meander on the theme which I began here and here on the warmth of a Mexico I experienced after many years of living there.

But today there will be a hint on who Nahui Olin is and how the book about her has released in me a torrent of nostalgia.

When my mother, grandmother and I arrived in Mexico City from Buenos Aires, Mexico was experiencing a height of cultural expansion because of its films, its writers and its music.


Nahui Olin by Dr. Atl


My grandmother was a low diplomat working at the Philippine Embassy. She had a budget to entertain, particularly those of the artistic community. It seems she was the unofficial cultural attaché. This meant that she rented a big mansion in Lomas de Chapultepec, a lovely, upscale neighbourhood. She gave parties. We had to dress up in Filipino clothing. This 13-year-old had to wear a pineapple fibre barong-tagalog so similar to the guayaberas worn in Yucatán and other tropical cities of the area.




When the parties were not in our house I was dragged to a place (I believe it was in Coyoacán called el Rancho del Charro). Both there and at home on Sierra Madre I met (but did not consider these people important) Diego Rivera, Dr. Atl, Nicté-Ha (who called herself a Mayan princess and Alma Reed. Of all of them I only remember Reed who was a famous American journalist, a New York Times correspondent sent to Mérida who fell in love with Yucatan Governor Felipe Carrillo Puerto. He was executed in 1924 when Reed was in San Francisco getting ready to marry him. Luis Rosado Vega wrote the lyrics and Ricardo Palmerín to Peregrina one of the loveliest and saddest of all Mexican songs which was dedicated to Reed. Below, the first line reads: Peregrina of divine and bright eyes.


    Peregrina de ojos claros y divinos

    y mejillas encendidas de arrebol,

    mujercita de los labios purpurinos

    y radiante cabellera como el sol....

                                Luis Rosado Vega, 1922.

I never met Frida Kahlo because she had died. And  by 1955 Nahui Olin was out of the picture and away from Dr. Atl’s interest. By then she was walking in the city square, La Alameda saving stray cats. But she did have almost blonde hair and the most beautiful green eyes.

Sometime around 1979 I traveled to Mexico (Oaxaca and Yucatán) for the then airline Mexicana de Aviación. They paid for my hotels and flights in exchange for my Kodachromes.

But in 1975 when Rosemary had suggested we move with our two daughters to Vancouver we had put our house for sale. We quit our jobs. This was premature as the house did not sell for long time. To make ends meet (armed with a Pentacon-F and a Pentax S-3, two 50mm lenses and an 85) I began to photograph wealthy Mexican families with Kodak Tri-X. Believe it or not my fame at this portrait work grew and I was doing just fine. My neighbours kept telling me to change my mind. We didn’t.

In that trip to Mexico in 1979 I contacted some of the families. One in particular insisted I take portraits of them but especially their beautiful blonde, green-eyed daughter. She was icy. For these pictures I used the only lens I had for my Mamiya RB-67. It was a 65mm wide angle. I could not get too close to the icy blonde (I have long forgotten her name). The fuzzy edges of one of them is due to my spreading on a clear filter (but not in the centre) Vaseline.

As I attempt to find the appropriate subjects to photograph in the spirit of Nahui Olin I will have the problem of finding a face, blonde hair and green eyes like the icy blonde’s. Was she my Nahui Olin?



The Warmth of Mexico - Part II - Ivette Hernández
Monday, March 05, 2018





In my continuing series about the warmth of Mexico on my way to write of the startling book, Nahui Olin by Adriana Malvido that I found in Sanborns in Merida, recently, this segment, Part II, is about Ivette Hernández. She was a student of mine at Focal Point, a photography school that closed a few years ago. The Kosher thing to do was to wait for the course to finish and then ask her when I no longer was her teacher. That she consented to my request is something I have marvelled now for some years.

She had a face.

She had a face of Mexican volcanoes (even though she was from León, Guanjuato were they are in short supply).

She had the face of hot, sun baked Mexican earth even though her skin was smooth and supple.
She had the body of a woman who ate well but exercised (she was a construction worker in Vancouver).
She had the face a mestiza, that exotic melding of the Mexican aboriginal and the Spanish. A melding that is now condemned by those who are tearing down the statues of Columbus. Few in our PC Northern America (with Mexico to the south of it) would understand that in Latin America they celebrate the 12th of October as “El Día de la Raza” which would translate with the implied meaning that on that day a new race was born.

She had the face of a woman, a Mexican woman who had the questionable heritage of patience. It wasn’t until the beginning of the 20th century that Mexicans had enough and launched their revolution.

She had the face of a Mexican woman who thinks about death often and is not repelled by it nor fears it.

She had a face of fatalism, of accepting with dignity her fate but willing to change it.

She had the face, an elegant face of a proud people who only during the Mexican Olympics of 1968 finally celebrated the copper race
.



I worked with Hernández for several years and our communication ended up being a silent one. I would think of a pose or expression and there it was facing my lens.

In Mexico they  often say (Nemesio García Naranjo intellectual from Monterey, Nuevo León during the time of Mexican strong man Porfirio Díaz coined the expression), “Poor Mexico so close to the United States and so far from God.” This troubling conundrum makes Mexicans and Latin-Americans more observant and less willing to take life too seriously and perhaps gives them a more tolerant take on what surrounds them.




When I look at these portraits of Ivette Hernández I cannot believe that I took them. Are they too good for my white-man-son-of-an-Englishman perception? Or did my years in Mexico, those years of seeing the volcanoes, smelling the earth, the combination of corn meal laced with the lime, the smell of tortillerías, the smell of ripe Manila mangoes, pineapples, hot chiles roasting on gas stoves, the smell of bunker oil, sewage, seawater and the humidity when in proximity to the port of Veracruz may have seeped into my being and made me what I am today.

I am a confused, Argentine, American, Texan and Mexican. Time will tell when I will finally love my Vancouver and my Canada not because it is a practical place to live but because I will feel it in my heart.
















     

Previous Posts
My Photographic Lineage With Lisa

Remembrance - Not

The Potentiality of a Rosebud

The Darkroom & the Glove

Beauty in Fall Decay

A Post-Halloween-Pre-Christmassy-Rant

No Tigers, Clowns or Brass Bands - Backbone a Circ...

Béatrice Larrivé - a Ghost at the Vancouver Playho...

Costumbrismo - Laurence Gough, Mario Vargas Llosa ...

Alex - the Serial Bombmaker



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1/24/10 - 1/31/10

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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

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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

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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

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

10/22/17 - 10/29/17

10/29/17 - 11/5/17

11/5/17 - 11/12/17

11/12/17 - 11/19/17

11/19/17 - 11/26/17

11/26/17 - 12/3/17

12/3/17 - 12/10/17

12/10/17 - 12/17/17

12/17/17 - 12/24/17

12/24/17 - 12/31/17

12/31/17 - 1/7/18

1/7/18 - 1/14/18

1/14/18 - 1/21/18

1/21/18 - 1/28/18

1/28/18 - 2/4/18

2/4/18 - 2/11/18

2/11/18 - 2/18/18

2/18/18 - 2/25/18

2/25/18 - 3/4/18

3/4/18 - 3/11/18

3/11/18 - 3/18/18

3/18/18 - 3/25/18

3/25/18 - 4/1/18

4/1/18 - 4/8/18

4/8/18 - 4/15/18

4/15/18 - 4/22/18

4/22/18 - 4/29/18

4/29/18 - 5/6/18

5/6/18 - 5/13/18

5/13/18 - 5/20/18

5/20/18 - 5/27/18

5/27/18 - 6/3/18

6/3/18 - 6/10/18

6/10/18 - 6/17/18

6/17/18 - 6/24/18

6/24/18 - 7/1/18

7/1/18 - 7/8/18

7/8/18 - 7/15/18

7/15/18 - 7/22/18

7/22/18 - 7/29/18

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8/26/18 - 9/2/18

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9/16/18 - 9/23/18

9/23/18 - 9/30/18

9/30/18 - 10/7/18

10/7/18 - 10/14/18

10/14/18 - 10/21/18

10/21/18 - 10/28/18

10/28/18 - 11/4/18

11/4/18 - 11/11/18

11/11/18 - 11/18/18