Reactions – Tomislav Friscic

Tomislav Friscic is in the exciting transition state between a Research Fellow at the University of Cambridge, UK and an Assistant Professor at McGill University, Canada, and works on new ways of conducting chemical reactions.

1. What made you want to be a chemist?

The beauty of chemical experiments. I suspect that love towards chemistry was inspired early on by my grandmother, a professor of organic chemistry who produced some very important textbooks and translations when such teaching materials were rare in former Yugoslavia. However, I got really hooked for life when I saw the beautiful violet fumes of iodine during my first chemistry lecture in elementary school!

2. If you weren’t a chemist and could do any other job, what would it be – and why?

I suspect I would be quite happy being a programmer – I occasionally fall into the counterproductive mood of trying to write small utility programs on my PC. A cook would definitely be an excellent alternative. It is as close as you can get to synthetic chemistry!

3. What are you working on now, and where do you hope it will lead?

I am very much interested in how chemical transformations work and how they can be improved. We are now working on developing new and clean ways to convert hard materials, similar to those making up the mineral resources in Earth’s crust, into useful materials. The principal goal is to do it under mild conditions, using as little energy as possible and the most inexpensive starting materials.

4. Which historical figure would you most like to have dinner with – and why?

It’s a tough call, but I believe I would settle on Benjamin Franklin. A dinner with someone of so many talents and interests, ranging from science to politics and diplomacy, would surely turn out to be interesting! In the worst case, we would have a good game of chess. However, a quiet dinner focusing on the discovery of new elements with Marie Curie would also be attractive!

5. When was the last time you did an experiment in the lab – and what was it?

Last week – I was double-checking a new preparative method we’ve developed for the synthesis of bismuth salicylate, a known pharmaceutical component.

6. If exiled on a desert island, what one book and one music album would you take with you?

Probably “Alice in Wonderland”, although “Gulliver’s Travels” would probably be more appropriate for that particular occasion. The album would probably be “Aqualung” by Jethro Tull. However, I would also try sneaking in with me “Look at yourself” by Uriah Heep.

7. Which chemist would you like to see interviewed on Reactions – and why?

Pance Naumov from Osaka. He is a young solid-state researcher who is producing some quite fascinating work on the mechanisms of solid-state reactions. His recent paper on atom-hopping in realgar was fascinating!

Blogroll: Dear chemists…

[As mentioned in this post, we’re posting the monthly blogroll column here on the Sceptical Chymist. This is a slightly longer version of June’s article]

Embracing rational irrationality and a 200th birthday celebration.

“When we hear ‘chemicals’ we think death, harm, cancer, birth defects, danger, pain, poison, pollution, hazardous waste, Love Canal, Bhopal. Oh, joy!” This was part of a letter addressed to ‘chemists’ from ‘the public’ to celebrate the International Year of Chemistry, written ironically by David Ropeik as part of his guest blog for Scientific American. I’m sure you’ll forgive us for not chuckling as we read, much less ROFL’ing. Ropeik’s point, if bluntly made, was that chemists need to address the fact that the public has real fears about their exposure to ‘chemicals’. Whether or not those fears are entirely rational, he argues, chemists should embrace them as part of a wider dialogue if they are to get the public to appreciate the benefits of chemistry.

Quite a few people on Twitter thought Ropeik was at best guilty of ignoring his own advice by successfully alienating the community he was trying to advise. But KJHaxton on Endless Possibilities was able to see past the “chemist bash centred on the notion that [the IYC] exists solely to convince the generally ignorant public […] that chemistry is in fact a Very Good Thing.” Haxton concludes that the IYC “is about far more than overcoming so-called chemophobia, let’s not allow one blog post to make it so.” Neil Gussman on The Chemical Heritage blog took the advice on board: “[chemistry needs] the reality check Ropiek provided: the most powerful tools do the most damage when misused.” Magdeline Lum, however, leapt to the Defence of Chemists at Philosophically Disturbed because the “public know plenty about chemistry. They may not recognise their existing knowledge as chemistry knowledge but this doesn’t make them ignorant.”

And finally… showing chemistry in a more positive light, Google used the 200th anniversary of Robert Bunsen’s birth to create a great ‘doodle’ of the eponymous burner that brightened everyone’s day. Of course, there was more to Bunsen than just a burner, as we were quick to point out here on the Sceptical Chymist, and Michelle Francl even showed us the link between Bunsen and quantum mechanics at the Culture of Chemistry.

Materials Girl: Publishing perils

[Posted on behalf of Materials Girl, who would again like to blame the editor for the title]

It’s amazing how long the process takes to obtain [publishable] data, write an intelligible manuscript, and make it through peer review. Many moons ago as a new grad student, I did HR-TEM & EDS for some chaps at another school – a submitted paper had returned with the reviewers demanding better characterization. They were collaborating with YouKnowWho, so as the new and semi-projectless group member my task was to become the microscopy girl… The updated paper was re-submitted about a year ago, and the other PI graciously added me as third author (of seven). Today I was forwarded the following rather cryptic email:

“It’s been a long strange road for this paper but at last it has found a home with [journal]. Thank you all for your hard work and patience. I’ve never had an experience like this before with a manuscript but it’s over now.” -the other PI. (YKW didn’t respond to question about what the issues were, so I am left to assume that it isn’t important.)

So what’s the moral of the story? I have no idea, I’m just happy to finally have something in my resume’s Publications section! My other papers – the legitimate ones as first author – are in draft form on my Desktop to be glanced at guiltily. YKW seems surprisingly relaxed for a professor going up for tenure soon! The only difference in his demeanour is a slightly higher sense of urgency to publish. Notably, for the past week we’ve been hashing a recent manuscript back and forth, using new data from my recent conference presentation. (Speaking of which, I had my first bona fide talk last month! Merciless grilling by YKW on slide formatting and my speaking resulted in a lot of stress, a little bit of sleep, and a nice cash award – compliments of [sponsoring company]. I’m not complaining.)

Over the last few months it finally feels like I’m a real grad student. I’ve written abstracts, made presentations, cursed at PowerPoint, worked on publications, and run around doing labwork/characterization; in between there’s been TAing, being “Lab Mom” to our 8 or so undergrads, running a new student chapter of a national society*, and putting off my own homework/studying/manuscripts to write occasional blog posts. This is normal, right?

*one of YKW’s side projects that was bestowed on me (likely to pad his resume for tenure, but you didn’t hear me say that)

Once in a while I step back and realize that a) I volunteered for this, b) I’m getting a[n insultingly low] stipend, c) I have the freedom to take breaks and procrastinate to my heart’s content. According to one of my professors, the smart people procrastinate because they can get away with it. I’ll take his word for it. Life as a minion isn’t so bad – then I remember that this is just my ridiculous 3-year Master’s, and the road to a PhD is ahead. Oh crap/hooray.

Reactions – Stéphane Baudron

Stéphane A. Baudron is in the Laboratoire de Chimie de Coordination Organique at the University of Strasbourg, France, and works on the development of crystalline heterometallic architectures.

1. What made you want to be a chemist?

It just happened without me even realizing it. I was keen on science in general as a teenager, with a particular interest in biology. As an undergraduate student, I slowly moved towards chemistry and here I am now.

2. If you weren’t a chemist and could do any other job, what would it be – and why?

If I had the talent, I would have loved to be a professional comedian. When I am not in lab, you can most definitely find me involved in improvisational theatre, either acting or watching. This is the best way to escape and find oneself again.

3. What are you working on now, and where do you hope it will lead?

We are working on the sequential construction of crystalline heterometallic architectures using differentiated ligand bearing several coordination poles. The goal is to take advantage of the heterometallic nature of these materials and to modulate their properties by playing with the different metal centers involved.

4. Which historical figure would you most like to have dinner with – and why?

Nicéphore Niépce, one of the inventors of photography. It must have been an exhilarating experience to see the first photograph appear. It might also have something to do with my passion for silver salts.

5. When was the last time you did an experiment in the lab – and what was it?

Today. I synthesized a dipyrrin. Being in the lab is a great and productive way to not sit at my desk. Working on the computer does not bring much thrill, except when writing a paper.

6. If exiled on a desert island, what one book and one music album would you take with you?

I would either bring Dave Egger’s A heartbreaking work of staggering genius, to remind me of my time in California, or Michel Houellebecq’s La carte et le territoire to remind me of France.

For the music album, it would be a tough choice between Santigold’s Santogold, Goldfrapp’s Seventh tree and Benjamin Biolay’s La superbe.

7. Which chemist would you like to see interviewed on Reactions – and why?

Prof. Mircea Dincă, a very talented chemist and good friend, whose views should be interesting to hear.

Reactions – Sason Shaik

Sason Shaik is in the Department of Chemistry at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, and works on general theories of bonding, structure, and chemical reactivity.

1. What made you want to be a chemist?

It was always the “magic of chemistry”, one substance disappears and a new one suddenly appears. In my early teens these were the visual changes I could concoct. Back then, you could go to the pharmacy and purchase a few chemicals, like sulfur, potassium permanganate, HCl, etc, and there was the laboratory in school… I had red phosphorous, potassium and sodium, zinc, sulfuric acid, nitric acid, hydrochloric acid, sulfur, mercury, carbon pills, the red oxide of mercury, and so on. When I started high school, I got a hold of a book that had recipes for making “gentle” explosives that scared the old neighbor who used to chase our soccer ball, H2S that irritated the teacher, igniting hydrogen, etc. One day I “discovered” the gas chlorine while mixing KMnO4 with HCl and seeing a vigorous effervescence. I stuck my nose in and took a deep breath; I almost chocked. I tell this “discovery” to my History of Chemistry students when we reach the story of Scheele’s death. When I turned 15, I was torn between my loves of humanities and literature and for chemistry. I ended up choosing natural sciences, I suspect because I loved chemistry which was so much fun. My flirt with wet photography made the “magic of chemistry” more awesome. Then in the university I discovered creatures called orbitals, and was enchanted by mechanistic chemistry, structure determination, spectroscopy, and then by quantum chemistry. It was so exciting; I finally had the tools to understand the “magic of chemistry”! I was slowly being converted to become a theorist. Chemistry was now also intellectually charming.

2. If you weren’t a chemist and could do any other job, what would it be – and why?

I would be a writer or a poet. I like writing, writing, and writing…

3. What are you working on now, and where do you hope it will lead?

On principles of bond activation by enzymes and synthetic metals, brain chemistry, and new bonding motives. I hope to be able to generalize the new concepts of two-state reactivity and exchange-enhanced reactivity, and to change the mental map of chemical bonding. I am also lecturing on chemistry to humanities and to the wide public, and hope my notes will become a book. At the moment, I only have a title; “Chemistry as a Game of Lego”…

4. Which historical figure would you most like to have dinner with – and why?

I think Gilbert Newton Lewis would be my choice. Ever since I read his 1916 JACS paper (for an essay I had to prepare for the JCC issue on the 90th years anniversary of the chemical bond), I felt great admiration for this person who affected chemistry so much.

5. When was the last time you did an experiment in the lab – and what was it?

In my masters degree in 1974. This was the reaction of TeCl4 with olefins and aromatics, and this is when the “magic of chemistry” was playing tricks on me. I tell all about this adventure in J. Phys. Chem. A. 112, 12724-12736 (2008), and how it contributed to making me a theorist.

6. If exiled on a desert island, what one book and one music album would you take with you?

Can I take my wife with me? I would not go unless I could take many books, one of these books would certainly be the poems collection of David Fogel, my favorite poet. The same about albums.

7. Which chemist would you like to see interviewed on Reactions – and why?

Roald Hoffmann.

Moissanite: a boy’s best friend

After writing about Bunsen the other day – probably the most famous person on my academic family tree – I thought that some of the other members of the tree deserved a little more attention. One of the best things about academic family trees is the branches (unless you’re Paul from ChemBark and you’re trying to make a very fancy one for your boss’s birthday) – thanks to things like wars and multiple influences, the tree can branch in a few directions. Two of my branches end up including Bunsen, while another two include Gay-Lussac and Liebig, respectively.

And it’s the Gay-Lussac line that features one of the three Nobel laureates in my tree, about whom I’m going to blog today: Henri Moissan. Who? Exactly. Unlike Bunsen, he’s not much of a household name, although I think he’s better known in his native France than elsewhere.

Moissan definitely falls in the category of ‘chemists from Bunsen’s era whose achievements are overlooked’, which I mentioned last time. I first heard of Henri Moissan thanks to a Newscripts article in C&EN, in which Bob Wolke mentions that he bought his wife a ring and earrings with ‘moissanite’ gemstones. As Bob says, moissanite is “every bit as beautiful as diamond and at a fraction of the price”, thanks to its higher refractive index (more brilliance) and dispersion (fire) and lack of heavy marketing (price)! Moissanite is a silicon carbide mineral named after Moissan, who discovered it in fragments of a meteorite in Arizona. (Now there’s a marketing line for moissanite – ‘with the fire of meteorites!’)

But that’s not the only link that Moissan has to gemstones (a subject currently dear to the hearts – and wallets! – of fellow editor Gav and I, whose marital statuses have both recently shifted). After his invention of the electric-arc furnace, he made significant attempts to create diamonds in the lab. It’s not entirely clear whether he was succesful: although some reproductions of his technique worked, others didn’t. Kathleen Lonsdale argues “probably not” in this letter to Nature in 1962, and I’m not going to argue with a Dame who worked out the structure of benzene in 1929.

But none of this is what Henri Moissan was awarded the Nobel Prize for, nor why he is most known in the history books (apart from the furnace – it’s mentioned in the Nobel citation. Can you imagine that nowadays?!). It was for the isolation of elemental fluorine. If there’s one thing any chemist knows about fluorine it’s that it’s reactive. Really reactive. Which is why, in spite of fluorite minerals being known since 1530, it took 74 years of effort by the ‘fluorine martyrs’ of the 19th century to isolate it, defeating Davy, Ampère, Gay-Lussac and Faraday along the way (check out the fact box in this Angewandte Chemie article about Moissan).

How did Moissan do it? If you’re faint-hearted, look away now. He just electrolysed a solution of KHF2 in HF – being careful to keep the evolving hydrogen gas away from the fluorine gas, of course. Ampere had suggested the electrolysis of HF decades before, but its poor conductivity meant it didn’t work – Moissan’s addition of KHF2 was the crucial insight. And this method is still pretty much how it’s produced today.

Tragically, Moissan died fairly young at the age of 54, just a year after receiving the 1906 Nobel prize – he was just the sixth recipient. According to this rather picturesque article from Nature in 1931, there’s a plaque commemorating him on the school he attended as a boy in Meaux (where brie was born and where Henry V died). It’s interesting and somewhat inspiring to see that he didn’t excel at school, failing to achieve the grade needed for university and only passing it a few years later. So if you’re a keen but failing student at school – don’t give up! You might win a Nobel Prize one day…

Neil

Neil Withers (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)

Reactions – Jean-Claude Bünzli

Jean-Claude Bünzli is at the Institute of Chemical Science and Engineering at Ecole Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne (EPFL, Switzerland) and at the WCU Center for Next Generation Photovoltaic Systems at Korea University, and works on luminescence of lanthanide ions with emphasis on the development of bioprobes for specific detection of cancer cells as well as of photovoltaic and telecommunication materials.

1. What made you want to be a chemist?

An early passion for the magic of seeing transformation of matter, either in the biological world, or in day-to-day life, often under the influence of sunlight. There was some hesitation with going into physics, a seemingly more rigorous science, but I solve the ambiguity by positioning myself at the interface, while adding, later on, the dimension of biosciences.

2. If you weren’t a chemist and could do any other job, what would it be – and why?

A tough choice between being a cook, which after all is job not too different from chemistry and which I love to practice, and being a conductor because music is so much smoothing and inspiring and because it communicates so well feelings and enthusiasm, strengthening one’s mood to confront (and solve) problems.

3. What are you working on now, and where do you hope it will lead?

With a double affiliation, I have two wishes. The first one is to see the bioprobes recently developed at EPFL become a real tool for fast and cheap detection of cancerous cells. The second one is to succeed in having lanthanides improving photovoltaic devices.

4. Which historical figure would you most like to have dinner with – and why?

Giuseppe Verdi during an open-air performance of La Traviata, for instance in a train station like in Zürich two years ago. Because I love romantic music, I loved “La dame aux camélias”, which inspired the play and if you could invite Marc Chagall I would be delighted…

5. When was the last time you did an experiment in the lab – and what was it?

Being a physical inorganic chemist makes things easy: I measured luminescence spectra and quantum yields of a series of dendrimeric erbium complexes between Christmas and New Year 2009. And determined the instrumental function of my newly-moved-to-Korea spectrofluorimeter in July 2010.

6. If exiled on a desert island, what one book and one music album would you take with you?

As for the music album, “The new world symphony” by Antonin Dvorak, accompanied by the trilogy of Bernard Werber “The aunts” including the “Encyclopedia of relative and absolute knowledge”, it may help survive!

7. Which chemist would you like to see interviewed on Reactions – and why?

Yan Chunhua from Peking University. Not only does he incarnates the young generation of Chinese scientists, but he is really enthusiastic about his research and work in a field which has bright future, lanthanide nanomaterials, particularly nanophosphors, nanobioprobes, and up-converting nanoparticles.

Element of the month: A brighter beryllium

As you might already be aware, each month, someone writes a page in the journal about one element. These short pieces are pretty informal, and often include some anecdotes or historical tales about a particular element. As we make our way through the periodic table, I’ve been wanting to share some of these stories with you.

In our May issue, Ralph Puchta from the University of Erlangen-Nürnberg tells us about beryllium.

Did you know that beryllium plays an important role in the nuclear carbon formation in space? Under just the right conditions, two 24He nuclei (also known as alpha particles) first combine into a 48Be atom which can then — despite its instability — form one 612C atom on encountering a third alpha particle.

It is also present in nature in pretty gemstones such as emeralds and aquamarines, which essentially consist of beryl (beryllium aluminium cyclosilicate), with a few transition metal impurities that give them their colour. Beryl is the mineral from which beryllium was first isolated in 1798 and, obviously, named — although ‘glucinium’ had also been proposed at the time, because beryllium salts tasted sweet. ‘Glucinium’ was finally abandoned after nearly 160 years of using the two names.

Semantics aside, beryllium and a lot of its compounds are known to be toxic (so I wouldn’t want to taste exactly how sweet they are myself!), in particular in the form of powders, and should be handled with care. Still, it displays an array of properties that are attractive for applications ranging from radiation windows for X-ray tubes (it doesn’t absorb X-rays much) to aerospace and military usages (it is light, stiff and resists low temperatures). Beryllium could even soon find its way in the processors of quantum computers.

I’ll let you find out more trivia from Puchta’s article [subscription required to read the article]

Oh – and have we mentioned that we’re running a writing competition based on this ‘in your element’ feature?

We look forward to reading your articles!

Anne

Anne Pichon (Associate Editor, Nature Chemistry)