TO DEC. 15

In Georgetown, in a small, dark room closed off by a black curtain, a single bench sits facing a dim slide show. A non-art-savvy young clubgoer might wander in on her way to the record store or Urban Outfitters, gaze at the murky images appearing on the wall, and wonder if she’s seen this display at some rave. It could use a soundtrack, she might think as she walks out. A culturally challenged mechanic might peer through the curtain, almost dismiss Gabriele Stellbaum’s “Orbiter 2” exhibit, but get caught up by the whirring sound in the background. He’d probably be interested to know that three projectors are being fed a sequence of audio instructions from a tape player, which causes the amorphous images to fade in and out of each other. An avid software collector might talk briefly with the gallery owners about the artist’s methods. I have a bootleg copy of Adobe Premiere somewhere on my hard drive, he might muse. I wonder if I can get a show. Stellbaum calls her work “virtual sculpture.” She digitizes found images and manipulates them on a computer. Orbiter (pictured) is an abstracted image from some amusement park ride, altered into a collection of nebulous, bulbous shapes that resembles something out of a matte painting from The Matrix. The piece is gloomy and confusing, but somehow fascinating. Staring at it long enough might reveal something for everyone—maybe even a serious art critic. On view from 1 to 6 p.m. daily, to Wednesday, Dec. 15, at the Museum of Contemporary Art, 1054 31st St. NW. Free. (202) 342-6230. (Neil Drumming)