From a Compound in the Brazilian Hills, Excellence in Math Emerges
|
Version 0 of 1. RIO DE JANEIRO — Until a few weeks ago, few Brazilians had even heard of the National Institute for Pure and Applied Mathematics, much less followed the rarefied concepts being studied within. Ensconced on a road that winds through the forested hills above the Jardim Botânico, the complex is surrounded by orchid-adorned trees where capuchin monkeys dart through the branches. Scholars in the halls murmur not just in Portuguese, but also in Russian, French and Persian. Guards at the entrance glare in surprise at visitors who manage to find their way onto the campus. But then one of the institute’s researchers, Artur Ávila, 35, who dresses like a surfer of Rio de Janeiro’s beaches, burst onto the national scene this month by winning the Fields Medal, often considered mathematics’ equivalent of the Nobel Prize. While Mr. Ávila is gaining personal fame as a math wunderkind and the first Brazilian to win the prize, many here are also turning their gaze to the institute, earning it broader recognition as a hidden gem that has flourished in a developing country with a dearth of world-renowned educational institutions. “The place is like a castle in the jungle, remarkable in that it’s managed to be quite free of government restrictions,” said Stephen Smale, 84, a professor emeritus at the University of California, Berkeley, who spent time at the institute in 1960 doing research in Rio that led to his own Fields Medal in 1966. In a reflection of the ties that the institute has forged with top universities around the world, Mr. Smale noted that his doctoral students at Berkeley included Jacob Palis, a former director of the institute, and César Camacho, its current director. The compound, built in the late 1970s and early ’80s with heavy amounts of reinforced concrete, in a nod to the somber architectural styles prevailing during Brazil’s military dictatorship, has a vibe that is at once laid-back and intense. The students who come to study here, some of whom wander the halls in shorts and flip-flops, exude a nerdy style like that of the code writers on “Silicon Valley,” the HBO comedy series. Much of the institute, known as IMPA, is eerily quiet, as the scholars within its confines explore the boundaries of mathematics and pure reason, often without focusing on how their knowledge can be used in the real world. “IMPA is an extremely demanding environment,” said Inocencio Ortiz, 29, a Paraguayan doctoral student clad in a Led Zeppelin T-shirt. “But it’s worth it since a degree from here brings with it prestige and strong chances of getting a job in mathematics in Brazil or elsewhere.” In recent years, the institute, which recruits promising math students into its programs while some are still in high school (as it did with Mr. Ávila, the Fields recipient), has maintained a publication rate among its faculty that compares favorably with large American universities like Princeton and Stanford, according to the American Mathematical Society. At the same time, it charges no tuition and has bolstered its standing in the mathematics world by luring doctoral students and other researchers with relatively high salaries. A newly hired researcher receives about $6,000 a month, an amount that climbs over the course of a multiyear contract to about $8,600. With just 153 students in its postgraduate programs (no undergraduate courses are offered) and a teaching and research staff of 50, the institute stands in contrast to most Brazilian universities in that about half of its students and researchers come from abroad, giving its hillside compound a thoroughly cosmopolitan air. “Everyone in mathematics knows about IMPA,” said Damien Lejay, 25, a French doctoral student in mathematics at Pierre and Marie Curie University in Paris who is doing research here for two months. “Brazil is very keen on spending money on mathematics, while in Europe the story is different, one of cutting funds.” Founded in Rio in 1952, the institute remains much smaller than many universities but ranks among the best mathematics institutes in the developing world. Its management structure shifted in 2000, allowing it to continue obtaining the bulk of its funding from public sources while giving it greater latitude in how to spend those funds. With an annual budget of about $13 million, the institute does not require researchers to be Brazilian or even speak Portuguese, Brazil’s national language, focusing instead on a candidate’s capacity to conduct cutting-edge mathematics research. Private donors, meanwhile, have seized on the chance to support a rare educational success story in Brazil. “IMPA is one of Brazil’s islands of excellence, really in its own league,” said Arminio Fraga, a former president of Brazil’s central bank who now runs his own investment firm and is among the institute’s largest donors, supporting the chair held by Mr. Ávila, who won the Fields Medal for his work in a branch of mathematics called dynamical systems. Brazil boasts other well-regarded research organizations, including Embrapa, a tropical-agriculture pioneer that has helped turn Brazil into a leading exporter of food, and the Aeronautical Institute of Technology, an M.I.T.-inspired engineering school that has supported the growth of Embraer, the Brazilian aviation giant. But other Brazilian educational institutions have been strained by acute demands on their resources, exemplified recently by a protracted strike at the respected University of São Paulo by professors and employees against what administrators called necessary cuts to a bloated bureaucracy. The math institute stands in even sharper contrast to Brazil’s beleaguered public school system. The nation performs dismally in math proficiency, according to the Program for International Student Assessment, the standardized test given to 15-year-old students by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development. Seeking to bridge that gap, the math institute helps organize the annual Brazilian Math Olympiad, a nationwide competition for students involving a series of tests and a long selection process. Mr. Ávila was offered a scholarship to IMPA after sailing through the Olympiad as a high school student in the mid-1990s, putting him on the path to the Fields Medal. Mr. Ávila, now a dual citizen of Brazil and France, divides his time between Rio and Paris, where he is a research director at the National Center for Scientific Research. When in Rio, he can often be found pondering mathematical problems while meandering along the beach near Leblon, the seaside neighborhood where he lives. “In Iran, there’s a step-by-step process for getting a Ph.D., which can be fairly rigid,” said Yadollah Zare, 27, an Iranian doctoral student who recently arrived at the math institute for what is expected to be a four-year stay. “One of the first things I noticed here was how flexible it is, how we’re thrown into this environment and basically told, ‘Well, it’s now up to you.’ ” |