Mr. Gimpaya places his disembodied limbs, singly and in pairs, on pedestals -- white ones topped with Ionic capitals yet -- and, to mock the well-worn fantasy further, he sometimes encases the feet in shiny black pumps with stiletto heels. Whether these legs stand at attention or make as if to flee the scene (one of them aided by a feather attached to the ankle) there is always the feeling that their owner is thinking about chores to be done. They may be on a pedestal, but they are working legs, strong, stubby and capable of delivering a swift kick if necessary. Mr. Gimpaya tips his hat to feminism with these pictures, but he remains very much the Surrealist-in-a-closet.
Woman in a Mask Series
This is a strange being whose ontology is difficult to grasp. The mask is featureless, a reflective, impregnable metallic surface [that] reflects natural light from a Vermeer-like window Gimpaya's distance and lack of engagement denies intimacy. It is the coolness of his unflinching art that is compelling. The images are starkly lucid. And we, like him, are reduced to being mere observers Gimpaya's art speaks to a sublime, enigmatic, present time [in which] a mask does not hide an identity. It is an identity.