Michael’s works are the children of an engineer and John Muir, with Walt Whitman as mid–wife. The engineering element, not surprisingly, is the first thing that hits you after a right brain wash of ‘These are really beautiful’. A 21st Century mind immediately sees the precision, the perfect geometry, the unblemished surface of much of the artist’s work. The logical side knows they are not the product of a carver’s tool or potter’s wheel. Past that admission, the alluring beauty that initially draws the viewer wholly flows through the sensibilities of the ultimate naturalist Muir. Where the language of the machined and that of the sensory-inspired aesthetic meet, lies the poet. To reconcile the seemingly opposed mechanical and natural worlds present in Sirvet’s sculpture, the viewer needs to allow themselves to be lulled into an openness of mind, where a perfect circle is a rain drop entering a puddle, the corona of an eclipse, the spot on a salamander. There is danger in solely focusing on the human crafted creation without allowing the beauty that only the ‘beyond our control’ simplicity of physics brings to the work. Thus the artist Michael Sirvet, the structural engineer and child of the woods, allows his work to be his poetry.