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For 暗网视频Assistant Professor of Geological Sciences Claudia Cannatelli, Ph.D., the path to becoming a volcanologist was anything but direct. She began her studies in physics, aiming for a career in nuclear physics and medicine. Then she signed up for a single volcanology elective in part because it included a field trip to Mount Etna. The moment she stepped onto Europe鈥檚 most active volcano, everything changed: 鈥淚 was hooked,鈥� she said.

What followed was a pivot towards a career in volcanology. She finished her undergraduate degree in physics and enrolled in the M.S. in Geophysics program at the University of Rome, where she was able to study Etna鈥檚 2001 eruption. When researching graduate programs in volcanology or seismology, she learned about a new Italy鈥揢.S. joint Ph.D. program. After being selected as the program's only student for its inaugural year, she arrived at Virginia Tech with a physicist鈥檚 mindset and a growing fascination with how magma develops and behaves.

Although it wasn't the easiest path, her experience across multiple disciplines shaped the researcher and teacher she would become.

鈥淚 try to be more pragmatic in my approach,鈥� she said. 鈥淏ut it also helps me collaborate because I understand the languages of physics, math, engineering and geology. I can connect the dots and see the big picture.鈥�

Volcanoes as public service

Throughout her career 鈥� whether studying volcanoes in Italy, the Azores, Chile or Alaska 鈥� Cannatelli has held one central belief: geology and volcanology are fundamentally about helping people.

Her Ph.D. research centered on how to reduce volcanic risk for the three million people living in the area around Mount Vesuvius. Her current work in Alaska focuses on how volcanoes can be resources, not just hazards.

Cannatelli is now studying the geothermal potential of the Wrangell Volcanic Complex and other sites to determine whether small-scale, community-driven energy projects could become feasible. Her work begins not with drilling plans, but with people. For each project, she visits tribal councils and local residents to explain her team鈥檚 goals and to ask whether the community wants the research to happen.

"I always ask, 'What do you think? What do you need? What else can I do for you?' Most of the time, there is a very productive conversation, and you can adjust your plans because you learn that they might need something different than what you thought they needed," she said.

From gelato on Vesuvius to helicopter drops in Alaska

When Cannatelli saw a job posting for a position at 暗网视频during the pandemic, 鈥渋t looked like it was written for me.鈥� She jokes that it was only missing her shoe size.

But working on Alaskan volcanoes 鈥� which number over 50 active systems 鈥� required a radical shift from her earlier field sites. On Vesuvius, 鈥測ou climb the volcano, get your gelato, get your espresso, and then you do your fieldwork.鈥� In Alaska though, 鈥測ou鈥檙e dropped by helicopter, you work fast, and you leave fast.鈥�

Weather windows are tiny. Wildlife protections close off regions for weeks. Even in summer, many volcanoes remain inaccessible. Even so, she has steadily built a research network that includes other universities, state agencies, tribal organizations and the Alaska Volcano Observatory. When fieldwork proved impossible, colleagues shared samples. Industry partners provided funding and materials. Students joined her lab, helping sift through minerals and analyze complex datasets.

鈥淵ou鈥檙e not an island in this work,鈥� she said. "Collaboration is fundamental."

Finding discoveries in the 'defects'

Cannatelli primarily studies melt inclusions 鈥� tiny pockets of magma trapped inside crystals. These imperfections contain the only direct record of the gases a magma held before an eruption, which is key to understanding and eventually forecasting volcanic behavior.

Her favorite scientific breakthroughs come from looking where others don鈥檛. 鈥淚 look for anomalies. I look for defects and try to use these tools to answer different scientific questions," she said.

This mindset led her (and a bored late-night group of Ph.D. colleagues) to a remarkable discovery. Everyone had been taught to ignore the bubbles inside melt inclusions; they supposedly contained nothing. One evening, they decided to check anyway.

鈥淲e thought they were empty,鈥� she said. 鈥淭hey weren鈥檛.鈥�

The bubbles held water and CO鈧�, crucial information that meant decades of magma-storage estimates were systematically too low. Their discovery launched an entire branch of volcanic Raman spectroscopy and is now reshaping how scientists model volcanic systems, including Alaska鈥檚.

鈥淚t happened because we had access to the instruments and freedom to be curious,鈥� she said. It鈥檚 why her lab, today, is open to trained students 24/7.

Teaching the next generation

Though fieldwork in Alaska is difficult, Cannatelli infuses her classes with real data, global case studies and interactive simulations. Students analyze real eruption records, work through mock emergency scenarios and debate evacuation decisions.

"It's been eye-opening for a lot of students, understanding how difficult it is to make decisions," she said. "I always tell them being a scientist is great because you don't make decisions. Scientists provide data. And then local authorities have to make decisions."

Her students challenge her in return. More than once, an unexpected question or class project has sparked a new research idea 鈥� some of which have grown into full studies with student co-authors.

Researching Mount Spurr's past, present and future

Like many Alaskans, Cannatelli closely watched Mount Spurr's unrest earlier this year. Although the volcano's activity level was downgraded to green in August, it remains notable. Cannatelli is part of a multi-institution research effort analyzing samples from Spurr's 1992 eruption to better understand what could happen in the future.

"It is very interesting, and that's why there is this effort to study the volcano as a community, because of the unrest and the volcanic crisis that started last year, but also because it could be taken as a model and as an approach to study several volcanoes around the world," she said.

If Spurr does erupt, it鈥檚 unlikely to threaten Anchorage beyond ashfall and temporary air-traffic disruptions; scientifically, it would be invaluable.

鈥淚t's rare to have such dense instrumentation on a volcano right before an eruption,鈥� she said. 鈥淭he data would shape the next 40 years of research.鈥�

'My job is my passion'

Cannatelli is open about the sacrifice required to pursue work she loves: leaving Italy, relocating across continents, balancing heavy teaching loads with research and building a lab one student at a time. Her family is still in Europe; she is in Alaska with her husband and young son. But the choice, she said, was worth it.

鈥淢y job is my passion,鈥� she said. 鈥淚鈥檓 lucky.鈥�

It鈥檚 advice she gives her students often: study what excites you, even if the path isn鈥檛 obvious or linear. Even if it takes you halfway around the world. Even if it drops you on a remote ridge with only a backpack and the rumble of a sleeping volcano beneath your feet.