Май 2002 г.

Российская наука и мир (по материалам зарубежной электронной прессы)

CONTENTS / ОГЛАВЛЕНИЕ


• Heart of Science Still Beats in Siberia
• Scientists Wary of New Academy Reforms
• U.S. companies say investment in Russian information technology pays back
• Enemy of the State
• Washington State U. prof to visit Siberia with group
• Albany Molecular Research, Inc. Strengthens Scientific and Management Team
• Rock Till You Drop
• Scientists to discuss Lake Vostok research at webcast press conference
• Water, Water Everywhere on Mars, Scientists Find
• Odyssey data hints at icy Mars oceans
• Maps of Subsurface Hydrogen from the High-Energy Neutron Detector, Mars Odyssey

AKADEMGORODOK, Western Siberia -- With its potholed streets and regimented apartment blocks, half- hidden behind thick stands of birch and pine, this could be any small town in Russia.
But behind its quiet exterior, Akademgorodok is a hotbed of high-tech endeavor. The "akadem" tells half the story, and a closer look at the signs above the entrances to the buildings fills in the rest: Institute of Solid-State Chemistry, of Cytology and Kinetics, of Semiconductor Physics, and so on. This is the brain of Siberia - a purpose-built city devoted to science.
Akademgorodok turned 45 over the weekend, but in keeping with the town's high-brow atmosphere, the anniversary passed almost unnoticed. Only the local museum marked the occasion by opening a small exhibition showcasing some of the town's scientific achievements.
In fact, Akademgorodok does not have much to celebrate at the moment. Deprived of the generous subsidies it received from the Soviet government, the 17,000-member scientific community here has been hit hard by the upheavals of the past 10 years. Scientists have left in droves to find better-paid employment in business or in research centers abroad and those that have stayed have been forced to turn their minds from research to making money.
"The changes have been very difficult", said Alexei Gordiyenko, a philosophy professor who is now head of the town administration. "Many people suffered from stress. Almost half the scientists needed psychological support."
Despite its problems, Akademgorodok is trying hard to adapt to the new economic climate, and Gordiyenko, for one, is upbeat about the future.
"We are optimists", he said with a laugh. "We believe we can succeed."
In many ways, it is a miracle that an idea as unlikely as building a science city in the heart of Siberia was realized at all, let alone survived so long. That such a science-fiction fantasy did happen is largely down to Soviet mathematician Mikhail Lavrentyev, who dreamed of creating a scientific center in Siberia dedicated to harnessing the region's vast natural resources.
"World War II showed that the east of Russia was far less developed than the west", said Olesya Baikova, a guide at the museum. "It was recognized that the east needed to be developed as part of a national strategy."
Lavrentyev found a prominent supporter for his idea in Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev, and on May 18, 1957, he was given the go-ahead to build his city here, 30 kilometers south of Novosibirsk in the taiga by the Ob sea, a huge reservoir behind a dam on the Ob River.
Over the next few years, thousands of scientists poured in from all over the country to staff Akademgorodok's 15 newly established research institutes. A special construction company was set up to build the town, which soon had its own shops and schools and even an artificial beach beside the Ob. A university was set up to feed the institutes with new blood even before construction work on the institutes was finished; a photograph in the museum shows a professor lecturing a group of students under a birch tree. In its early years, Akademgorodok enjoyed an unprecedented amount of academic freedom, enabling scientists to explore previously forbidden avenues of science. Lavrentyev acted as cheerleader, whipping up enthusiasm with boasts such as: "Siberia will become the science center not only of the Soviet Union but of the world."
The combination of intoxicating freedom and a mission to make Siberia hospitable to man engendered some outlandish ideas, such as diverting the territory's rivers to irrigate Central Asia and refill the Aral Sea or building a town with its own microclimate beneath a glass dome in the Arctic.
Foreign luminaries like French President Charles de Gaulle and American astronaut Neil Armstrong came to pay their respects, and the main drag, Prospekt Akademika Lavrentyeva, was crowned by the Guinness Book of Records as the most scientific street in the world.
When Brezhnev came to power, Akademgorodok was made to serve industry more closely and show concrete returns under the Soviet planned economy. Some of its pioneering spirit was lost, but the town still thrived, often manufacturing the technology that its research institutes developed. With the fall of the Soviet Union, everything changed. Funding evaporated under President Boris Yeltsin and an exodus of scientists began - a far cry from the days when university graduates would line up for a job at one of the town's prestigious institutes.
"The people who were in power at the time had no idea about the technological development of the country", Gordiyenko said. "There was a massive reduction in funding."
Gordiyenko said that from 1991 to 1997, government funding of Akademgorodok shrank to one-fourteenth its former size and staff at its 37 institutes declined by a third. In 1995 and 1996 alone between 500 and 1,000 highly qualified scientists left, he said.
The situation was compounded by the fact that the newly privatized industries were not in a position to invest the kind of money in the institutes that the government had provided.
"It was a difficult time because industry had no money [to fund research and development", said Yury Chugui, director of the Institute of Technological Design. "It was easier in Soviet times because many ministries were able to fund science. Now, really only the Nuclear Power Ministry and perhaps the Railways Ministry can afford to."
Another problem was meeting the demands of the open market.
"There was not much of a market for high technology in the Soviet Union", Gordiyenko said. "Scientists [in Akademgorodok] were forced to stop their fundamental research and change to designing easily manufacturable products that could be sold easily."
Chugui said he was hopeful things would improve under President Vladimir Putin, who visited Akademgorodok during the first year of his presidency and met with a small delegation of top scientists earlier this year.
Speaking in March, Putin urged scientific institutions to make the most of limited state funds by focusing on a few key fields of research and to compile detailed inventories of their assets.
Gordiyenko was less positive, saying that although the relationship between the scientific community and the president was better than under Yeltsin, no firm measures have been taken to help science. "Putin has opened a dialogue, but nothing else has happened", he said.
With no sign of imminent help from the state, Akademgorodok has started creating a partnership with business instead. "Our task is to create a mechanism for cooperation between science, businesses, investors and industry", Gordiyenko said. "We have to create the necessary conditions to attract investors."
Some progress has already been made toward this goal at an exhibition center in the middle of town, where some of the institutes' most recent inventions are displayed along with placards suggesting commercial uses for them. "Many of the inventions have already found investors", said Tatyana Taskayeva, who helps run the center. "They are of a world-class standard, and they are a lot cheaper than elsewhere."
The contraptions have barely comprehensible names - electron beam sterilizer, low dose digital radiographic device - but, crucially, they are designed for industrial and commercial use.
The electron beam technology developed by the Institute of Nuclear Physics, for example, is used by a factory near Lake Baikal to treat polluted effluent.
Chugui's institute, which specializes in laser technologies, also has strong links with industry, including among its clients diamond giant Alrosa and automaker AvtoVAZ. China has also bought equipment from the institute to help design antennae for its national space program.
Outside the exhibition center, the town itself also seems far from dead. On Saturday, students roamed around the main shopping center and hung out at the New York Pizza restaurant overlooking a lively little square. A man in his early 20s was renting out in-line skates and scooters, while nearby three students hawked their home-made music magazine. On the university campus, an athletics meet was in full swing.
But Gordiyenko insists that more needs to be done to ensure the town's survival. The town administration has plans to build a business center with a conference hall and hotel for visiting investors and to purchase much needed new equipment for the institutes, he said.
It is also working on ways of persuading scientists to stay in Akademgorodok.
Young scientists, for example, have been allowed to set up small design and technology companies independently of the institutes to supplement their basic salaries. "These firms have huge potential," Gordiyenko said. "They could turn over millions of dollars a year." Although most of the university's top students still tend to move on from Akademgorodok after graduating, Gordiyenko feels many will return once the economic situation in Russia has stabilized. Chugui agreed, saying that although the financial rewards are greater abroad, many scientists have difficulty adapting to life in foreign countries and are thinking of coming back.
Gordiyenko's main problem is money. He estimates it will require 2.5 billion rubles (about $80 million) to build up the town's infrastructure to the level he thinks necessary to host foreign businesses. At present, the town is negotiating with the government to get a 50 percent tax rebate over the next three years that would be used to invest in the project. Gordiyenko is also lobbying for companies that benefit from Siberia's natural resources to sink some of their profits back into the region.
Although he has high hopes for the next few years, however, Gordiyenko is keeping his feet on the ground.
"We Russians love a big idea," he said, smiling. "But whether it will work out or not is another matter. If it doesn't, I will be out of a job and will go off and write a science book."

MOSCOW -- At the Rusian Academy of Sciences (RAS) general meeting last week, academy members approved a sweeping overhaul that would merge several of the disciplinary fiefdoms, stripping power from top officials on RAS's governing board, the presidium. The academy's leadership portrays the reorganization as a way to steer more funding to the cream of its roughly 400 institutes. However, others view it as shuffling chairs on the deck of the Titanic.

Американские компании собираются увеличить инвестиции в информационные технологии в России. Их привлекает достаточно низкие затраты на открытие новых филиалов и наличие большого количества высококлассных специалистов. Например, компания Intel настолько удовлетворена работой двух своих исследовательских лабораторий в Нижнем Новгороде и Сарове, что планирует открыть филиалы в Санкт-Петербурге и Новосибирске

MOSCOW -- Despite bureaucratic and other hurdles, Russia's information technology resources are attractive to foreign companies, representatives of U.S. business said Friday. U.S. companies have found it attractive to outsource in Russia in the past decade because of the country's large pool of skilled researchers and low costs, businessmen said at an IT roundtable sponsored by the American Chamber of Commerce in Russia, the U.S.-Russia Business Council and the Russian Communications and Information Technology Ministry. U.S. aircraft maker Boeing said Russians are participating in its project to produce Sonic Cruiser, the airplane that will fly 20 percent higher and faster than current passenger aircraft. "This airplane will be built using some of the unique Russian design tools that were developed by Russian mathematicians and computer scientists," said Sergei Kravchenko, vice president of Boeing Operations International. Motorola built a software factory in St. Petersburg to cater to Western contractors, and its profits quadrupled from 1999 to 2001, said factory director Vladimir Polutin. Intel has been so content with its two research labs in Nizhny Novgorod and its satellite town of Sarov that the company plans to expand into other cities - St. Petersburg and Novosibirsk.
The stories of success could be more numerous if Russia promoted itself more on the market, said Steven Chase, president of Intel Russia. "The world is very, very competitive. Intel for example has 10 times more software engineers in India and China today than we do in Russia," he said.
India and China are the leading players on the information technology outsourcing market, and Russia lags far behind while some experts say it has the same potential.
Other drawbacks involve customs authorities. Polutin of Motorola complained of long delays when it comes to exporting new software.
"It's been close to nine months since we asked customs authorities for a permit to export software we developed last year", he said.
The company has also had problems importing. In order to test software to be built in the future products it needs to import hardware, and it takes as long as six months to do that.
At a time of unprecedentedly warm relations between the United States and Russia Olga Dergounova, managing director of Microsoft Corp. in Russia, said the Cold War legacy still hampers IT cooperation.
"Technology cooperation is very limited because of consequences of the Cold War", she said describing a recent process of transferring new Windows documentation to Russia that turned lengthy because of U.S. information security rerquirements.
Also Friday, the rector of Lomonosov Moscow State University, one of Russia's most highly regarded higher education institutes, announced that the school had reached agreement with the U.S.-based company Exigen to build an information technology center at the school.

Michael Scammell is the author of "Solzhenitsyn: A Biography." He is writing a biography of Arthur Koestler.

The life and career of the late Andrei Dmitrievich Sakharov were rich in paradox. As one of the Soviet Union's most brilliant nuclear scientists, he was instrumental in arming the regime with a second generation of nuclear weapons that undoubtedly bolstered Soviet power at home and abroad. Twenty years later, as one of the leaders of the Soviet dissident movement, he played a major role in weakening the regime and hastening its downfall, by his public support for political prisoners and by his books, articles and speeches.
From being feted as the "father of the H-bomb", Sakharov went to being a virtual political prisoner, banished into internal exile, systematically spied upon and force-fed when he resorted to hunger strikes. The paradox was all the more striking in that his authority as a dissident derived in large part from his formidable reputation as an establishment scientist, while his dissidence reflected remorse over the consequences of the weapons he had helped to create.
It is an amazing story, a complex moral parable with multiple shades of light and dark, with elements of a political thriller and a happy ending, and though it has been told in Sakharov's and second wife Elena Bonner's memoirs, Richard Lourie has done a valuable service by bringing these sources together and placing them in the necessary context in "Sakharov: A Biography." In doing so, he displays a thorough knowledge of Russian history and the Soviet dissident movement and, through his personal friendship with Sakharov during the last years of the latter's life, he is able to offer a valuable firsthand snapshot of the scientist at the height of his influence and fame. He also does a good job of presenting Sakharov's scientific work in terms the layman can understand.
Like most members of the Soviet cultural elite, Sakharov was a child of the upper-middle class. His grandfather owned a country estate in southern Russian, and his father was a teacher in Moscow and the author of several books on popular science. Born in 1921, Sakharov was tutored at home until he was ready for high school and thus was shielded from the ideological rigors of a post-revolutionary education. Tall and thin, physically clumsy and painfully shy, he grew up a geek and a bookworm, shunned by most students as naive and eccentrically absent-minded.
There were two arenas in which Sakharov shone: math and physics, where his brilliance seemed to rest on a mysterious native talent. It was enough to carry him into Moscow University just before World War II and from there to the prestigious Physics Institute of the Academy of Sciences, where his mentor was freethinking physicist Igor Tamm.
He twice rejected invitations to join the Soviet atomic program but was given no choice when, in 1948, Tamm was ordered to explore the possibilities of thermonuclear fusion. Eighteen months later, he accompanied Tamm to the top-secret "Installation" in far-off Kazakhstan, where he was to spend the next 18 years working on the hydrogen bomb.
As Lourie demonstrates, Sakharov's motives for accepting such work were both patriotic and intellectual. America was threatening a first strike against the Soviet Union, and nuclear physics was, in Sakharov's words, "a theoretician's paradise. A thermonuclear reaction - the mysterious source of the energy of the sun and the stars ... was within my grasp." It was a species of hubris, but he justified that hubris by producing successful formulas for not one, not two but three successful nuclear fusion bombs, placing the Soviet Union - in destructive power at least - on a par with the United States. A grateful government rewarded Sakharov with three Hero of the Soviet Union medals and large monetary rewards, and at 32 he was unanimously elected the youngest-ever full member of the Academy of Soviet Sciences.
But after the successful explosion of his second bomb in 1955, he began to experience misgivings about the effects of fallout on the population at large. At a Kremlin banquet he proposed the first toast: "May all our devices explode as successfully as today's, but always over test sites and never over cities." It was met by Khrushchev and his ministers with an icy silence. Still loyal to the government, Sakharov lobbied for a test ban treaty, which Khrushchev accepted, rejected for a while, then accepted again. In the interval, when the ban was not in force, the Soviet Union exploded its biggest ever hydrogen bomb, Sakharov's third and last, which he had agreed to work on despite growing doubts about the morality of nuclear war.
These doubts were eventually expressed in a seminal essay, "Reflections on Progress, Co-Existence and Intellectual Freedom," in which he argued that nuclear war could lead humanity to "universal suicide" and, to avert it, called for complete freedom of information and the "convergence" of communism and capitalism. Within weeks of the essay's completion, it was printed in the New York Times, and within a year it had sold 18 million copies worldwide. Hopes were high in the summer of 1968 for fundamental change in both East and West. Those hopes were dashed when the Prague Spring was answered by Brezhnev's tanks, and Sakharov's essay by his dismissal from the Installation. To the party, it seemed like a logical step; but in terms of silencing Sakharov, it was a grievous mistake. Brezhnev's repression of the marginal freedoms granted by his predecessor, Khrushchev, led to the rise of a flourishing dissident movement and, in the course of the next six years, Sakharov became one of its two undisputed leaders. The other was Solzhenitsyn, who could hardly have been more different, psychologically and politically, from the personally diffident Sakharov, and the account of their encounters is one of the highlights of Lourie's book.
After Solzhenitsyn's expulsion in 1974, Sakharov became the Soviet government's "public enemy number one." The designation was bestowed on him by the new KGB chief, Yuri Andropov, after Sakharov was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1975. By then Sakharov's public opposition to the regime had hardened considerably, and Lourie adroitly demonstrates how Sakharov was radicalized.
From then on, Sakharov was ubiquitous, calling for investigations of the Gulag and of the practice of confining healthy dissidents in psychiatric institutions, attending trials and accepting delegations from all manner of oppressed groups. His opposition was based on moral and ethical considerations but was also fueled by a slow-burning personal fury fanned by the vindictive treatment of his wife, Bonner, and members of her family. Lourie is circumspect about Sakharov's family affairs, but he makes it clear that Sakharov's first marriage, to Klavdia Vikhereva, was conventional and that he was a mostly absentee father to their son and two daughters. His second marriage, after Klavdia's death from stomach cancer, was a genuine love match. Bonner was (and still is) a firebrand, the daughter and granddaughter of revolutionary activists, and she brought him not only a new family but also vast knowledge of the techniques of nonviolent resistance and underground activism. Not the least of these was the hunger strike, which Sakharov resorted to first for political causes but which he used increasingly on behalf of Bonner's efforts to go abroad for treatment of her failing eyesight and of her children's efforts to emigrate.
These hunger strikes steadily escalated in length and intensity, particularly after Sakharov and Bonner had been exiled in 1980 to Gorky, and the most painful parts of this book are the descriptions of these dangerous and debilitating ordeals. Bonner's role in Sakharov's dissident activities was controversial. The KGB tried to play the anti-Semitic card by emphasizing her Jewishness, but some dissidents also questioned her role. Lourie shows that Bonner herself occasionally tried - and failed - to dissuade her husband from hunger strikes, but he doesn't really tackle the question of how much her volatile character swayed the steadier Sakharov. When Gorbachev came to power, Sakharov was released from exile and returned to Moscow as an international celebrity. An early supporter of perestroika, he accepted election to the Soviet Congress of People's Deputies as the representative of the Academy of Science and quickly became one of the leaders of the political opposition, steadfastly pushing for more democracy and human rights.
He also launched a campaign to persuade the Congress to abolish Article 6 of the old constitution, guaranteeing the leading role of the Communist party, but was defeated on a voice vote. That night in 1989, he rallied his political allies with a stirring speech, ate a quick dinner, lay down for a brief nap and died peacefully in his sleep.
More than 50,000 people attended his funeral, and he was held by many to have died a martyr's death, hastened by his suffering at the hands of a cruel regime. Many speakers at the funeral likened Sakharov to a secular saint, and Lourie compares Sakharov, somewhat extravagantly, to Gandhi, Giordano Bruno and Leonardo da Vinci. More realistically, he invokes the American nuclear scientists Robert Oppenheimer and Edward Teller, with both of whom Sakharov identified himself at one time or another.
Politically, Sakharov was unique, becoming a player in ways that no nuclear scientist elsewhere could hope to emulate, if only because none other faced such a degree of repression and none other experienced a monolithic regime's collapse. As a result he was an entirely new phenomenon in Russian history: the martyred scientist (as opposed to poet, philosopher or priest) who was forced from contemplation into action by the sheer injustice of the world around him.

Профессор из Вашингтонского университета собирается в девятый раз посетить Россию для проведения археологических исследований на Байкале и в Сибири. Здесь он планирует осмотреть музеи, раскопки, а также встретиться со своими российскими коллегами

Professor Robert E. Ackerman, the man who set the history of Alaska back 9000 years, is on his way to Russia for the ninth time to do more archeology research.
Ackerman, a professor of archeology, has taught at WSU for 40 years. He is going with two doctorate students, Ian Christopher Buvit and Karisa Lynn Terry, to the Trans Baikal area in Siberia. They plan to look at various Paleolithic sites and museums and talk to Russian Colleagues.
The main goal of the trip is to set up a research project for the two students to return to next summer. The first time Ackerman went to Russia, it was 1959, the end of the Stalin era.
"First time we went through, people were afraid", Ackerman said. "They wanted to speak to foreigners but didn't. They were told not to speak to foreigners. That's all changed now. A lot of those people are gone now, severely impacted from the war."
Ackerman had to go to St. Petersburg-Moscow, a preferred entry point, to meet with the Russian Scientists who had been working nearby while he was on St. Lawrence Island off the tip of Russia. "We were both studying frozen material, 1500 years old, Eskimo pre-history", Ackerman said. Later Ackerman would make a discovery that changed how scientists viewed Alaska's past. He said his team was working on a late prehistoric site in southeastern Alaska during the 1960s.
"It was a very dry August", Ackerman said. "We ran out of water when the tiny stream dried up. A student went a quarter mile up the coast to get water from a new stream.EHe found a piece of churd-chipped fine-grain stone lying on the beach; different material from the house pits we worked on."
Ackerman went with the student back to the area. "I climbed up the eroding face of an elevated marine terrace and found a microblade core in the terrace," Ackerman said. "History went from 250 years ago to beyond 9000 years. It was my moment of serendipity; accidental discovery."
Ackerman's work has mostly centered around looking for evidence of the first people enter the American continent. He has worked on hundreds of sites across Alaska and Russia.
At one point in the interview, Ackerman posed for a photographer in front of a huge walrus skull on the wall. "It has special meaning because I carried the dang thing one and a half miles out of a site in Alaska," Ackerman said.
Ackerman said he always carries a couple cameras with him. "I'm interested in everything - plants, animals, we just burn film," Ackerman said "We come back with hundreds of slides." Ackerman then uses those slides in his classes to inspire his WSU students.

ALBANY, N.Y., May 30, 2002 (BUSINESS WIRE) -- Albany Molecular Research, Inc. (Nasdaq: AMRI) today announced the hiring of three experienced scientists and managers, as well as the promotion of Bruce J. Sargent, Ph.D. to director of medicinal chemistry.
Brian D. Russell has joined the company as senior director, human resources. Mr. Russell is responsible for managing all of AMRI's corporate activities in the areas of employee relations, recruitment, benefits, and professional development programs, among other duties. He brings to the company over 20 years of related human resources experience, including previous positions at Nestle, GE Power Systems, and Stella Foods. Mr. Russell relocated back to the Capital District area from the Midwest, where he was director of human resources for Snap-On Inc.'s worldwide diagnostics business. Most recently, he was with Mohawk Paper. Mr. Russell holds a B.S. in business administration from Providence College and an M.S. in industrial and labor relations from St. Francis College. He is based in AMRI's Albany, NY offices and has human resources oversight at all of the company's locations. "Mr. Russell has an excellent background and record in industrial human resources and management", said AMRI Chairman and Chief Executive Officer Thomas E. D'Ambra, Ph.D. "His addition strengthens our human resources functions, and will help AMRI continue to grow and broaden its important operational employee-oriented activities."
Bruce J. Sargent, Ph.D. has been promoted to director, medicinal chemistry. Dr. Sargent is responsible for leading scientific groups engaged in experimental research programs, interacting with customers, and identifying research and business development opportunities. Prior to joining AMRI in 2001, Dr. Sargent was head of medicinal chemistry at Knoll Ltd, the United Kingdom division of BASF-Pharma, where he worked for 23 years. At Knoll, Dr. Sargent managed several research projects in the area of central nervous system diseases, as well as other therapeutic areas, and made a major contribution to the discovery and development of the antiobesity medicine sibutramine (Meridia(R)). Dr. Sargent obtained his M.A. degree from Cambridge University and his Ph.D. in organic chemistry from the University of Manchester. He is based in the company's Albany, NY facilities. "Since joining AMRI, Dr. Sargent has stepped in and taken on important responsibilities in our medicinal chemistry department", remarked Dr. D'Ambra. "His extensive industry experience and accomplishment, as well as his strong managerial capabilities, have made a positive impact on current activities and position the department well for continued strong growth. It is a pleasure to recognize Bruce's promotion to director, medicinal chemistry."
Barbara Galbiati, Ph.D. has joined AMRI as section head, analytical services. Dr. Galbiati is responsible for managing analytical projects supporting AMRI's GMP (Good Manufacturing Practices) efforts. GMP refers to procedures designed to comply with FDA regulations and guidelines for work on active ingredients that will ultimately be administered to humans in clinical trials for investigational drugs, or in commercial manufacture of FDA-approved products. Dr. Galbiati has nearly eight years of pharmaceutical R&D experience. She began her career as an analytical chemist at Italfarmaco Research Center (later renamed PFC Group) in Italy. In 1997, she moved to Honeywell Pharmaceutical Fine Chemicals, where she led a team of analytical and synthetic chemists in the development of new pharmaceutical active ingredients and intermediates. She was later promoted to manager of Honeywell's R&D Generics Department. Dr. Galbiati holds a Ph.D. in chemistry and pharmaceutical technologies from the University of Milan. She is based in AMRI's Albany, NY analytical chemistry laboratories.
Lioudmila Tchistiakova, Ph.D. has joined the company as section head, microbiology and genomics. Dr. Tchistiakova will support AMRI's natural products drug discovery and technologies at AMRI's Bothell Research Center near Seattle, WA. She has eighteen years of professional experience, including six years in the pharmaceutical industry, and a strong background in microbiology, molecular biology, immunology/cell biology, and biochemistry. Prior to joining AMRI, Dr. Tchistiakova was most recently group leader in molecular biology at Supratek Pharma Inc. in Montreal, Canada. She has also been a staff scientist at the Shemyakin-Ovchinnikov Institute of Bioorganic Chemistry, Russsian Academy of Science, and a senior scientist at the Russsian Research Centre of Molecular Diagnostics and Therapy in Moscow. Dr. Tchistiakova holds a Ph.D. in biochemistry from the Russsian Research Centre of Molecular Diagnostics and Therapy.
"The addition of Drs. Galbiati and Tchistiakova further strengthens our scientific team", said Dr. D'Ambra. "Dr. Galbiati's expertise in analytical chemistry and GMP regulations will help us meet growing customer demand for these services. Dr. Tchistiakova will enhance our efforts in natural products drug discovery and chemical biology. She brings to AMRI a wealth of knowledge in fermentation, gene expression, proteomics and high throughput screening that will benefit both our customers and future collaborative research and development efforts." Albany Molecular Research, Inc. is a leading chemistry research, drug discovery and development company focusing on applications for the life sciences industries. The company performs comprehensive research for many of the leading pharmaceutical and biotechnology companies and for its own internal research and development.

По сообщению, опубликованном в журнале Neuroscience of Behavior and Physiology, ученые Российской академии наук обнаружили, что человек распознает изображения, а также буквы и цифры быстрее, когда звучит классическая или рок музыка

(HealthScoutNews) -- Russian researchers have come up with a neat way to spur productivity among those whose job involves reading numbers and punching them into a computer

According to a report in the journal Neuroscience of Behavior and Physiology, the Russian Academy of Sciences found that a person's ability to recognize visual images, including letters and numbers, is faster when either rock or classical music is playing in the background. But you may need a DJ to get any real benefit. Research indicates that the speed increase is lost when the music is repeated

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