Ever look at a little kid in a stroller and think, now there's a troublemaker? Caleb Weintraub sees the little children for what they really are: the million horsemen of the apocalypse. His mixed-media works, now on view at Projects Gallery, look like Children of the Corn meet the Powerpuff Girls. In one dense cityscape, big-headed, scowling infants float like cherubs above the streets — except instead of miniature harps, these tots are toting Uzis. In another, particularly disturbing work, a red-faced little tyke named Lucy grimaces while in the background, some adults are hanging from nooses in the mountains. Weintraub eschews a grim palette, though, opting instead for shiny jewel tones — almost like stained glass — and candy-coated pastels, in addition to working in glitter, beads and the distinct artificiality of glossy Color-aid construction paper. "I use color mainly as a foil for the content," Weintraub says. "The particular candylike or toylike quality that I work to achieve is also a way of presenting the spectacle as it may be seen through the lens of a child." His intent is to portray "an exaggerated version of reality," where a generation's desensitization to sex, violence and overstimulation results in unmediated chaos. To the artist, all is not lost in these scenes of destruction, however. "In these works, catastrophe is inevitable but not entirely undesirable," he says. "There is a sense that this deconstruction is a precursor to some greater reimagining of the space, the world, even the future."

Opening reception Fri., Sept. 1, 5-7 p.m. (artist in attendance), runs through Oct. 29, 629 N. Second St., 267-303-9652.

Gilt mirrors, lush tapestries, marble fireplaces — Kelly McRaven's paintings look ripped from a home and design magazine. In a way, they were. A photograph in Vanity Fair provided the inspiration for a work called Palm Beach Interior, and while the imagery is contemporary, the mood is arguably timeless. Her style has been likened to Vuillard and Manet, and, yes, everything from the structure of the interior, to the furniture, to the ornate decor recalls the refinement of another era. It's hard to tell, however, just what era, exactly, McRaven is representing, because her rooms are unpopulated. No one sits in her Sitting Room, with its floral couch covers and frilly curtains; no one dines in her formal Dining Room, set for guests that never arrive. The absence is very much intentional. "Figures so far have made the spaces that the paintings depict seem less alive," says McRaven. "They always seem more charged when, as a viewer, you aren't blocked by someone staring back. There's more room to look and to rest." One intriguing departure — when McRaven moves to the great outdoors, she moves into clean abstractions. But whether indoors or outdoors, time is not of the essence to this artist.

Opening reception Fri., Sept. 1, 6-8 p.m., runs through Sept. 30, 35 S. Third St., 215-629-5889.

The children in Mira Gohel's images have attitude. Gohel shoots her subjects in a way that shuns hamming it up for the camera but still captures the spontaneity and joy of being a kid. Playfully dressed up in motorcycle helmets, enjoying a drippy popsicle or simply standing around, preteen angst intact via crossed arms, Gohel's kids are no shrinking violets. Her wildflowers aren't camera-shy, either, though the images look like they were shot by an investigative reporter hiding in the bushes. Closely cropped and low to the ground, the photos are intimate in a way that nature photographers must labor over to achieve, but Gohel makes seem effortless. Gohel's work at Nexus — photos of flowers and children — sounds like any old suburban mom's posts on Flickr, but her results are anything but pedestrian.

Opening reception Fri., Sept. 1, 5-9 p.m., gallery talk Sat., Sept. 16, 6 p.m., 137 N. Second St., 215-629-1103.

Evelyn Shapiro Foundation Fellow Myung Jin Choi unveils new work at The Clay Studio. Her May, 2006 appears to be an iconographic record of a month's worth of events — window panes, coffeepot, an hourglass and a question mark, all silhouetted in porcelain. Opening reception Fri., Sept. 1, 5-9 p.m., runs through Sept. 24, 139 N. Second St., 215-923-3453. ... Roxana Perez-Mendez is building the tallest hotel in Puerto Rico. It's all for show, though, in a faux construction project depicted through her installation of LCD monitors, projection and audio. See the gorgeous sunsets over Old San Juan in "Encantada" at the Painted Bride. Opening receptions Fri., Sept. 1 and Fri., Oct. 6, 5-7 p.m., runs through Oct. 14, artist-led gallery tour Sat., Oct. 7, 6 p.m., 230 Vine St., 215-925-9914.

(l_hill@citypaper.net)