Focus Issue on Plant Cell Walls: Sequencing around 5-Hydroxyconiferyl Alcohol-Derived Units in Caffeic Acid O-Methyltransferase-Deficient Poplar Lignins

Caffeic acid O-methyltransferase (COMT) is a bifunctional enzyme that methylates the 5- and 3-hydroxyl positions on the aromatic ring of monolignol precursors, with a preference for 5-hydroxyconiferaldehyde, on the way to producing sinapyl alcohol. Lignins in COMT-deficient plants contain benzodioxane substructures due to the incorporation of 5-hydroxyconiferyl alcohol (5-OH-CA), as a monomer, into the lignin polymer. The derivatization followed by reductive cleavage method can be used to detect and determine benzodioxane structures because of their total survival under this degradation method. Moreover, partial sequencing information for 5-OH-CA incorporation into lignin can be derived from detection or isolation and structural analysis of the resulting benzodioxane products. Results from a modified derivatization followed by reductive cleavage analysis of COMT-deficient lignins provide evidence that 5-OH-CA cross couples (at its β-position) with syringyl and guaiacyl units (at their O-4-positions) in the growing lignin polymer and then either coniferyl or sinapyl alcohol, or another 5-hydroxyconiferyl monomer, adds to the resulting 5-hydroxyguaiacyl terminus, producing the benzodioxane. This new terminus may also become etherified by coupling with further monolignols, incorporating the 5-OH-CA integrally into the lignin structure.Lignins are polymeric aromatic constituents of plant cell walls, constituting about 15% to 35% of the dry mass (Freudenberg and Neish, 1968; Adler, 1977). Unlike other natural polymers such as cellulose or proteins, which have labile linkages (glycosides and peptides) between their building units, lignins’ building units are combinatorially linked with strong ether and carbon-carbon bonds (Sarkanen and Ludwig, 1971; Harkin, 1973). It is difficult to completely degrade lignins. Lignins are traditionally considered to be dehydrogenative polymers derived from three monolignols, p-coumaryl alcohol 1h (which is typically minor), coniferyl alcohol 1g, and sinapyl alcohol 1s (Fig. 1; Sarkanen, 1971). They can vary greatly in their composition in terms of their plant and tissue origins (Campbell and Sederoff, 1996). This variability is probably determined and regulated by different activities and substrate specificities of the monolignol biosynthetic enzymes from different sources, and by the carefully controlled supply of monomers to the lignifying zone (Sederoff and Chang, 1991).Open in a separate windowFigure 1.The monolignols 1, and marker compounds 2 to 4 resulting from incorporation of novel monomer 15h into lignins: thioacidolysis monomeric marker 2, dimers 3, and DFRC dimeric markers 4.Recently there has been considerable interest in genetic modification of lignins with the goal of improving the utilization of lignocellulosics in various agricultural and industrial processes (Baucher et al., 2003; Boerjan et al., 2003a, 2003b). Studies on mutant and transgenic plants with altered monolignol biosynthesis have suggested that plants have a high level of metabolic plasticity in the formation of their lignins (Sederoff et al., 1999; Ralph et al., 2004). Lignins in angiosperm plants with depressed caffeic acid O-methyltransferase (COMT) were found to derive from significant amounts of 5-hydroxyconiferyl alcohol (5-OH-CA) monomers 15h (Fig. 1) substituting for the traditional monomer, sinapyl alcohol 1s (Marita et al., 2001; Ralph et al., 2001a, 2001b; Jouanin et al., 2004; Morreel et al., 2004b). NMR analysis of a ligqnin from COMT-deficient poplar (Populus spp.) has revealed that novel benzodioxane structures are formed through β-O-4 coupling of a monolignol with 5-hydroxyguaiacyl units (resulting from coupling of 5-OH-CA), followed by internal trapping of the resultant quinone methide by the phenolic 5-hydroxyl (Ralph et al., 2001a). When the lignin was subjected to thioacidolysis, a novel 5-hydroxyguaiacyl monomer 2 (Fig. 1) was found in addition to the normal guaiacyl and syringyl thioacidolysis monomers (Jouanin et al., 2000). Also, a new compound 3g (Fig. 1) was found in the dimeric products from thioacidolysis followed by Raney nickel desulfurization (Lapierre et al., 2001; Goujon et al., 2003).Further study with the lignin using the derivatization followed by reductive cleavage (DFRC) method also confirmed the existence of benzodioxane structures, with compounds 4 (Fig. 1) being identified following synthesis of the authentic parent compounds 9 (Fig. 2). However, no 5-hydroxyguaiacyl monomer could be detected in the DFRC products. These facts imply that the DFRC method leaves the benzodioxane structures fully intact, suggesting that the method might therefore be useful as an analytical tool for determining benzodioxane structures that are linked by β-O-4 ethers. Using a modified DFRC procedure, we report here on results that provide further evidence for the existence of benzodioxane structures in lignins from COMT-deficient plants, that 5-OH-CA is behaving as a rather ideal monolignol that can be integrated into plant lignins, and demonstrate the usefulness of the DFRC method for determining these benzodioxane structures.Open in a separate windowFigure 2.Synthesis of benzodioxane DFRC products 12 (see later in Fig. 6 for their structures). i, NaH, THF. ii, Pyrrolidine. iii, 1g or 1s, benzene/acetone (4/1, v/v). iv, DIBAL-H, toluene. v, Iodomethane-K₂CO₃, acetone. vi, Ac₂O pyridine.     

Genetics of Sexual Development: An Evolutionary Playground for Fish

Teleost fishes are the most species-rich clade of vertebrates and feature an overwhelming diversity of sex-determining mechanisms, classically grouped into environmental and genetic systems. Here, we review the recent findings in the field of sex determination in fish. In the past few years, several new master regulators of sex determination and other factors involved in sexual development have been discovered in teleosts. These data point toward a greater genetic plasticity in generating the male and female sex than previously appreciated and implicate novel gene pathways in the initial regulation of the sexual fate. Overall, it seems that sex determination in fish does not resort to a single genetic cascade but is rather regulated along a continuum of environmental and heritable factors.IN contrast to mammals and birds, cold-blooded vertebrates, and among them teleost fishes in particular, show a variety of strategies for sexual reproduction (Figure 1), ranging from unisexuality (all-female species) to hermaphroditism (sequential, serial, and simultaneous, including outcrossing and selfing species) to gonochorism (two separate sexes at all life stages). The underlying phenotypes are regulated by a variety of sex determination (SD) mechanisms that have classically been divided into two main categories: genetic sex determination (GSD) and environmental sex determination (ESD) (Figure 2).Open in a separate windowFigure 1Reproductive strategies in fish. Fish can be grouped according to their reproductive strategy into unisexuals, hermaphrodites, and gonochorists. Further subdivisions of these three categories are shown with pictures of species exemplifying the strategies. Fish images: Amphiprion clarkii courtesy of Sara Mae Stieb; Hypoplectrus nigricans courtesy of Oscar Puebla; Scarus ferrugineus courtesy of Moritz Muschick; Astatotilapia burtoni courtesy of Anya Theis; Poecilia formosa and Kryptolebias marmoratus courtesy of Manfred Schartl; Trimma sp. courtesy of Rick Winterbottom [serial hermaphroditism has been described in several species of the genus Trimma (Kuwamura and Nakashima 1998; Sakurai et al. 2009; and references therein)].Open in a separate windowFigure 2Sex-determining mechanisms in fish. Sex-determining systems in fish have been broadly classified into environmental and genetic sex determination. For both classes, the currently described subsystems are shown.Environmental factors impacting sex determination in fish are water pH, oxygen concentration, growth rate, density, social state, and, most commonly, temperature (for a detailed review on ESD see, e.g., Baroiller et al. 2009b and Stelkens and Wedekind 2010). As indicated in Figure 2, GSD systems in fish compose a variety of different mechanisms and have been reviewed in detail elsewhere (e.g., Devlin and Nagahama 2002; Volff et al. 2007).The GSD systems that have received the most scientific attention so far are those involving sex chromosomes, which either may be distinguishable cytologically (heteromorphic) or appear identical (homomorphic). In both cases, one sex is heterogametic (possessing two different sex chromosomes and hence producing two types of gametes) and the other one homogametic (a genotype with two copies of the same sex chromosome, producing only one type of gamete). A male-heterogametic system is called an XX-XY system, and female-heterogametic systems are denoted as ZZ-ZW. Both types of heterogamety exist in teleosts and are even found side by side in closely related species [e.g., tilapias (Cnaani et al. 2008), ricefishes (Takehana et al. 2008), or sticklebacks (Ross et al. 2009)]; for more details on the phylogenetic distribution of GSD mechanisms in teleost fish, see Mank et al. (2006). Note that sex chromosomes in fish are mostly homomorphic and not differentiated (Ohno 1974), which is in contrast to the degenerated Y and W chromosomes in mammals (Graves 2006) and birds (Takagi and Sasaki 1974), respectively. This is one possible explanation for the viable combination of different sex chromosomal systems within a single species or population of fish (Parnell and Streelman 2013) and could be a mechanistic reason why sex chromosome turnovers occur easily and frequently in this group (Mank and Avise 2009). Additionally, fish can have more complex sex chromosomal systems involving more than one chromosome pair (see Figure 2). Even within a single fish species, more than two sex chromosomes may occur at the same time, or more than two types of sex chromosomes may co-exist in the same species (Schultheis et al. 2006; Cioffi et al. 2013), which can sometimes be due to chromosome fusions (Kitano and Peichel 2012).Detailed insights on the gene level for GSD/sex chromosomal systems are currently available for only a limited number of fish species, and all but one of these cases involve a rather simple genetic system with male heterogamety and one major sex determiner (see below). The only exception is the widely used model species zebrafish (Danio rerio), which has a polyfactorial SD system implicating four different chromosomes (chromosomes 3, 4, 5, and 16) (Bradley et al. 2011; Anderson et al. 2012) and also environmental cues (Shang et al. 2006).In this review, we focus on newly described genetic sex-determining systems and possible mechanisms allowing their emergence in fishes, which are the most successful group of vertebrates with ∼30,000 species.     

Big steps toward understanding dynein

Dynein is a microtubule-based molecular motor that is involved in various biological functions, such as axonal transport, mitosis, and cilia/flagella movement. Although dynein was discovered 50 years ago, the progress of dynein research has been slow due to its large size and flexible structure. Recent progress in understanding the force-generating mechanism of dynein using x-ray crystallography, cryo-electron microscopy, and single molecule studies has provided key insight into the structure and mechanism of action of this complex motor protein.It has been 50 years since dynein was discovered and named by Ian Gibbons as a motor protein that drives cilia/flagella bending (Gibbons, 1963; Gibbons and Rowe, 1965). In the mid-1980s, dynein was also found to power retrograde transport in neurons (Paschal and Vallee, 1987). Subsequently, the primary amino acid sequence of the cytoplasmic dynein heavy chain, which contains the motor domain, was determined from the cDNA sequence (Mikami et al., 1993; Zhang et al., 1993). Like other biological motors, such as kinesins and myosins, the amino acid sequence of the dynein motor domain is well conserved. There are 16 putative genes that encode dynein heavy chains in the human genome (Yagi, 2009). Among these is one gene encoding cytoplasmic dynein heavy chain and one encoding retrograde intraflagellar transport dynein heavy chain, while the rest encode for heavy chains of axonemal dyneins. Most of the genes encoding the human dynein heavy chain have a counterpart in Chlamydomonas reinhardtii, which suggests that their functions are conserved from algae to humans.Dynein is unique compared with kinesin and myosin because dynein molecules form large molecular complexes. For example, one axonemal outer arm dynein molecule of C. reinhardtii is composed of three dynein heavy chains, two intermediate chains, and more than ten light chains (King, 2012). Mammalian cytoplasmic dynein consists of two heavy chains and several smaller subunits (Fig. 1 A; Vallee et al., 1988; Allan, 2011). The cargoes of cytoplasmic dynein are various membranous organelles, including lysosomes, endosomes, phagosomes, and the Golgi complex (Hirokawa, 1998). It is likely that one cytoplasmic dynein heavy chain can adapt to diverse cargos and functions by changing its composition.Open in a separate windowFigure 1.Atomic structures of cytoplasmic dynein. (A) Schematic structure of cytoplasmic dynein complex, adapted from Allan (2011). (B) The primary structure of cytoplasmic dynein. (C and D) The atomic model of D. discoideum cytoplasmic dynein motor domain (PDB accession no. 3VKG) overlaid on a microtubule (EMDB-5193; Sui and Downing, 2010) according to the orientation determined by Mizuno et al. (2007) (C) Side view. (D) View from the plus end of microtubule. (E) Schematic domain structure of dynein.Dynein must have a distinct motor mechanism from kinesin and myosin, because it belongs to the AAA+ family of proteins and does not have the conserved amino acid motifs, called the switch regions, present in kinesins, myosins, and guanine nucleotide-binding proteins (Vale, 1996). Therefore, studying dynein is of great interest because it will reveal new design principles of motor proteins. This review will focus on the mechanism of force generation by cytoplasmic and axonemal dynein heavy chains revealed by recent structural and biophysical studies.

Anatomy of dynein

To understand the chemomechanical cycle of dynein based on its molecular structure, it is important to obtain well-diffracting crystals and build accurate atomic models. Recently, Kon and colleagues determined the crystal structures of Dictyostelium discoideum cytoplasmic dynein motor domain, first at 4.5-Å resolution (Kon et al., 2011), and subsequently at 2.8 Å (without the microtubule binding domain) and 3.8-Å (wild type) resolution (Kon et al., 2012). Carter and colleagues also determined the crystal structures of the Saccharomyces cerevisiae (yeast) cytoplasmic dynein motor domain, first at 6-Å resolution (Carter et al., 2011), and later at 3.3–3.7-Å resolution (Schmidt et al., 2012). According to these crystal structures as well as previous EM studies, the overall structure of the dynein heavy chain is divided into four domains: tail, linker, head, and stalk (Fig. 1, B–E). Simply put, each domain carries out one essential function of a motor protein: the tail is the cargo binding domain, the head is the site of ATP hydrolysis, the linker is the mechanical amplifier, and the stalk is the track-binding domain.The tail, which is not part of the motor domain and is absent from crystal structures, is located at the N-terminal ∼1,400 amino acid residues and involved in cargo binding (gray in Fig. 1, B and E). The next ∼550 residues comprise the “linker” (pink in Fig. 1, B–E), which changes its conformation depending on the nucleotide state (Burgess et al., 2003; Kon et al., 2005). This linker domain was first observed by negative staining EM in combination with single particle analysis of dynein c, an isoform of inner arm dynein from C. reinhardtii flagella (Burgess et al., 2003). According to the crystal structures, the linker is made of bundles of α-helices and lies across the AAA+ head domain, forming a 10-nm-long rod-like structure (Fig. 1, C and D). Recent class averaged images of D. discoideum cytoplasmic dynein show that the linker domain is stiff along its entire length when undocked from the head (Roberts et al., 2012). The head (motor) domain of dynein is composed of six AAA+ (ATPase associated with diverse cellular activities) modules (Neuwald et al., 1999; color-coded in Fig. 1, B–E). Although many AAA+ family proteins are a symmetric homohexamer (Ammelburg et al., 2006), the AAA+ domains of dynein are encoded by a single heavy chain gene and form an asymmetric heterohexamer. Among the six AAA+ domains, hydrolysis at the first AAA domain mainly provides the energy for dynein motility (Imamula et al., 2007; Kon et al., 2012). The hexameric ring has two distinct faces: the linker face and the C-terminal face. The linker face is slightly convex and the linker domain lies across this side (Fig. 1 D, left side). The other side of the ring has the C-terminal domain (Fig. 1 D, right side).The stalk domain of dynein was identified as the microtubule-binding domain (MTBD; Gee et al., 1997). It emanates from the C-terminal face of AAA4 and is composed of antiparallel α-helical coiled-coil domain (yellow in Fig. 1, B–E). The tip of the stalk is the actual MTBD. Interestingly, the crystal structures revealed another antiparallel α-helical coiled coil that emerges from AAA5 (orange in Fig. 1, B–E), and this region is called the buttress (Carter et al., 2011) or strut (Kon et al., 2011), which was also observed as the bifurcation of the stalk by negative-staining EM (Burgess et al., 2003; Roberts et al., 2009). The tip of the buttress/strut is in contact with the middle of the stalk and probably works as a mechanical reinforcement of the stalk.

The chemomechanical cycle of dynein

Based on structural and biochemical data, a putative chemomechanical cycle of dynein is outlined in Fig. 2 (A–E). In the no-nucleotide state, dynein is bound to a microtubule through its stalk domain, and its tail region is bound to cargoes (Fig. 2 A). The crystal structures of yeast dynein are considered to be in this no-nucleotide state. When ATP is bound to the AAA+ head, the MTBD quickly detaches from the microtubule (Fig. 2 B; Porter and Johnson, 1983). The ATP binding also induces “hinging” of the linker from the head (Fig. 2 C). According to the biochemical analysis of recombinant D. discoideum dynein (Imamula et al., 2007), the detachment from the microtubule (Fig. 2, A and B) is faster than the later hinging (Fig. 2, B and C). As a result of these two reactions, the head rotates or shifts toward the minus end of the microtubule (for more discussion about “rotate” versus “shift” see the “Dyneins in the axoneme” section) and the MTBD steps forward. The directionality of stepping seems to be mainly determined by the MTBD, because the direction of dynein movement does not change even if the head domain is rotated relative to the microtubule by insertion or deletion of the stalk (Carter et al., 2008). In the presence of ADP and vanadate, dynein is considered to be in this state (Fig. 2 C).Open in a separate windowFigure 2.Presumed chemomechanical cycle and stepping of dynein. (A–E) Chemomechanical cycle of dynein. The pre- and post-power stroke states are also called the primed and unprimed states, respectively. The registries of the stalk coiled coil are denoted as α and β according to Gibbons et al. (2005). (F and G) Processive movement of kinesin (F) and dynein (G). (F) Hand-over-hand movement of kinesin. A step by one head (red) is always followed by the step of another head (green). The stepping of kinesin is on one protofilament of microtubule. (G) Presumed stepping of dynein. The step size varies and the interhead separation can be large. A step by one head (red) is not always flowed by the step of another head (green). (H) A model of strain-based dynein ATPase activation. (G, top) Without strain, the gap between the AAA1 and AAA2 is open and the motor domain cannot hydrolyze ATP. (G, bottom) Under a strain imposed between MTBD and tail (thin black arrows), the gap becomes smaller (thick black arrows) and turns on ATP hydrolysis by dynein.After the MTBD rebinds to the microtubule at the forward site (Fig. 2 D), release of hydrolysis products from the AAA+ head is activated (Holzbaur and Johnson, 1989) and the hinged linker goes back to the straight conformation (Fig. 2 E; Kon et al., 2005). The crystal structure of D. discoideum dynein is considered to be in the state after phosphate release and before ADP release. This straightening of the linker is considered to be the power-generating step and brings the cargo forward relative to the microtubule.

The MTBD of dynein

As outlined in Fig. 2, the nucleotide state of the head domain may control the affinity of the MTBD to the microtubule. Conversely, the binding of the MTBD to the microtubule should activate the ATPase activity of the head domain. This two-way communication is transmitted through the simple ∼17-nm-long α-helical coiled-coil stalk and the buttress/strut, and its structural basis has been a puzzling question.Currently there are three independent MTBD atomic structures in the Protein Data Bank (PDB): One of the crystal structures of the D. discoideum dynein motor domain contains the MTBD (Fig. 3 A), and Carter et al. (2008) crystallized the MTBD of mouse cytoplasmic dynein fused with a seryl tRNA-synthetase domain (Fig. 3 C). The MTBD structure of C. reinhardtii axonemal dynein was solved using nuclear magnetic resonance (PDB accession no. 2RR7; Fig. 3 B). The MTBD is mostly composed of α-helices and the three structures are quite similar to each other within the globular MTBD (Fig. 3). Note that dynein c has an additional insert at the MTBD–microtubule interface (Fig. 3 B, inset), whose function is not yet clear. The three structures start to deviate from the junction between the MTBD and the coiled-coil region of the stalk (Fig. 3, A–C, blue arrowheads). Particularly, one of the stalk α-helix (CC2) in D. discoideum dynein motor domain appears to melt at the junction with the MTBD (Fig. 3 A, red arrowhead). This structural deviation suggests that the stalk coiled coil at the junction is flexible, which is consistent with the observation by EM (Roberts et al., 2009).Open in a separate windowFigure 3.Atomic models of the MTBD of dynein. (A) D. discoideum cytoplasmic dynein (PDB accession no. 3VKH). (B) C. reinhardtii dynein c (PDB accession no. 2RR7). The inset shows the side view, highlighting the dynein c–specific insert. (C) Mouse cytoplasmic dynein (PDB accession no. 3ERR). (D) Mouse cytoplasmic dynein fit to the MTBD–microtubule complex derived from cryo-EM (PDB accession no. 3J1T). All the MTBD structures were aligned using least square fits and color-coded with a gradient from the N to C terminus. CC1, coiled coil helix 1; CC2, coiled coil helix 2. The blue arrowheads points to the junction between MTBD and the stalk, where a well-conserved proline residue (colored pink) is located. In C and D, two residues (isoleucine 3269 and leucine 3417) are shown as spheres. The two residues form hydrophobic contacts in the β-registry (C), whereas they are separated in the α-registry (D) because of the sliding between the two α-helices (blue and red arrows). Conformational changes observed in the mouse dynein MTBD in complex with a microtubule by cryo-EM are shown by black arrows. Note that the cryo-EM density map does not have enough resolution to observe sliding between CC1 and CC2. The sliding was modeled based on targeted molecular dynamics (Redwine et al., 2012).Various mechanisms have been proposed to explain how the affinity between the MTBD and a microtubule is controlled. Gibbons et al. (2005) proposed “the helix-sliding hypothesis” (for review see Cho and Vale, 2012). In brief, this hypothesis proposes that the sliding between two α-helices CC1 and CC2 (Fig. 3, C and D; blue and red arrows) may control the affinity of this domain to a microtubule. When Gibbons’s classification (Gibbons et al., 2005) of the sliding state is applied to the three MTBD structures, the stalk in the D. discoideum dynein motor domain is in the “α-registry” state (not visible in Fig. 3 A because of the melting of CC2), which corresponds to the strong binding state. However, the mouse cytoplasmic and C. reinhardtii axonemal MTBDs have the “β-registry” stalk (Fig. 3 C), which corresponds to the weak binding state.To observe conformational changes induced by the α-registry and/or microtubule binding, Redwine et al. (2012) solved the structure of mouse dynein MTBD in complex with a microtubule at 9.7-Å resolution using cryo-EM and single particle analysis. The MTBD was coupled with seryl tRNA-synthetase to fix the stalk helix in the α-registry. At this resolution, α-helices are visible, and they used molecular dynamics to fit the crystal structure of mouse MTBD (β-registry) to the cryo-EM density map. According to this result, the first helix H1 moves ∼10 Å to a position that avoids a clash with the microtubule (Fig. 3 D, black arrows). This also induces opening of the stalk helix (CC1). Together with mutagenesis and single-molecule motility assays, Redwine et al. (2012) proposed that this new structure represents the strong binding state. Currently, it is not clear why the MTBD structure of D. discoideum dynein motor domain (α-registry, Fig. 3 A) is not similar to the new α-registry mouse dynein MTBD, and this problem needs to be addressed by further studies.

Structures around the first ATP binding site

Another central question about motor proteins is how Ångstrom-scale changes around the nucleotide are amplified to generate steps >8 nm. For dynein, the interface between the first nucleotide-binding pocket and the linker seem to be the key force-generating element (Fig. 4). The crystal structures of dynein give us clues about how nucleotide-induced conformational changes may be transmitted to and amplified by the linker domain.Open in a separate windowFigure 4.Structures around the first ATP binding site. (A) Schematic domain structure of the head domain. Regions contacting the linker domain are colored purple. (B) AAA submodules surrounding the first nucleotide-binding pocket (PDB accession no. 3VKG, chain A). The linker is connected to AAA1 domain by the “N-loop.” To highlight that the two finger-like structures are protruding, the shadow of the atomic structure has been cast on the plane parallel to the head domain. (C) Interaction between the linker and the two finger-like structures. The pink arrowhead points to the hinge-like structure of the linker. The pink numbers indicates the subdomain of the linker.The main ATP catalytic site is located between AAA1 and AAA2 (Fig. 4, A and B). There are four ADP molecules in the D. discoideum dynein crystal structures, but the first ATP binding site alone drives the microtubule-activated ATPase activity, based on biochemical experiments on dyneins whose ATP binding sites were mutated (Kon et al., 2012).One AAA+ module is composed of a large submodule and a small α submodule (Fig. 4 B). The large α/β submodule is located inside of the ring and the small α submodule is located outside. The large submodule bulges toward the linker face, and the overall ring forms a dome-like shape (Fig. 1 D).The main ATP catalytic site is surrounded by three submodules: AAA1 large α/β, AAA1 small α, and AAA2 large α/β (Fig. 4, A and B). Based on the structural changes of other AAA+ proteins (Gai et al., 2004; Suno et al., 2006; Wendler et al., 2012), the gap between AAA1 and AAA2 modules is expected to open and close during the ATPase cycle.In fact, the size of the gap varies among the dynein crystal structures. The crystal structures of yeast dyneins show a larger gap between AAA1 and AAA2, which might be the reason why no nucleotide was found in the binding pocket. Although Schmidt et al. (2012) soaked the crystals in a high concentration of various nucleotides (up to 25 mM of ATP), no electron densities corresponding to the nucleotide were observed at the first ATP binding site. Among dynein crystal structures, one of D. discoideum dynein (PDB accession no. 3VKH, chain A) has the smallest gap, but it is still considered to be in an “open state” because the arginine finger in the AAA2 module (Fig. 4 B, red) is far from the phosphates of ADP. Because the arginine finger is essential for ATP hydrolysis in other AAA+ proteins (Ogura et al., 2004), the gap is expected to close and the arginine finger would stabilize the negative charge during the transition state of ATP hydrolysis.The presumed open/close conformational change between AAA1 and AAA2 would result in the movement of two “finger-like” structures protruding from the AAA2 large α/β submodule (Fig. 4 B). The two finger-like structures are composed of the H2 insert β-hairpin and preSensor I (PS-I) insert. In D. discoideum dynein crystal structure, the two finger-like structures are in contact with the “hinge-like cleft” of the linker (Fig. 4 C, pink arrowhead). The hinge-like cleft is one of the thinnest parts of the linker, where only one α-helix is connecting between the linker subdomains 2 and 3.In the yeast crystal structures, which have wider gaps between AAA1 and AAA2, the two finger-like structures are not in direct contact with the linker and separated by 18 Å. Instead, the N-terminal region of the linker is in contact with the AAA5 domain (Fig. 4 A). To test the functional role of the linker–AAA5 interaction, Schmidt et al. (2012) mutated a residue involved in the interaction (Phe3446) and found that the mutation resulted in severe motility defects, showing strong microtubule binding and impaired ATPase activities. In D. discoideum dynein crystals, there is no direct interaction between AAA5 and the linker, which suggests that the gap between AAA1 and AAA2 may influence the interaction between the head and linker domain. The contact between the linker and AAA5 may also influence the gap around AAA5, because the gap between AAA5 and AAA6 is large in yeast dynein crystal, whereas the one between AAA4 and AAA5 is large in D. discoideum dynein.The movement of two finger-like structures would induce remodeling of the linker. According to the recent cryo-EM 3D reconstructions of cytoplasmic dynein and axonemal dynein c (Roberts et al., 2012), the linker is visible across the head and there is a large gap between AAA1 and AAA2 in the no-nucleotide state. This linker structure is considered to be the “straight” state (Fig. 2, A and E). In the presence of ADP vanadate, the gap between AAA1 and AAA2 is closed and the N-terminal region of linker is near AAA3, which corresponds to the pre-power stroke “hinged” state (Fig. 2, C and D). The transition from the hinged state to the straight state of the linker is considered to be the force-generating step of dynein.

Processivity of dynein

As the structure of dynein is different from other motor proteins, dynein’s stepping mechanism is also distinct. Both dynein and kinesin are microtubule-based motors and move processively. Based on the single molecule tracking experiment with nanometer accuracy (Yildiz et al., 2004), it is widely accepted that kinesin moves processively by using its two motor domain alternately, called the “hand-over-hand” mechanism. To test whether dynein uses a similar mechanism to kinesin or not, recently Qiu et al. (2012) and DeWitt et al. (2012) applied similar single-molecule approaches to dynein.To observe the stepping, the two head domains of yeast recombinant cytoplasmic dynein were labeled with different colors and the movement of two head domains was tracked simultaneously. If dynein walks by the hand-over-hand mechanism, the step size would be 16 nm and the stepping of one head domain would always be followed by the stepping of another head domain (alternating pattern), and the trailing head would always take a step (Fig. 2 F). Contrary to this prediction, both groups found that the stepping of the head domains is not coordinated when the two head domains are close together. These observations indicated that the chances of a leading or trailing head domain stepping are not significantly different (Fig. 2 G; DeWitt et al., 2012; Qiu et al., 2012).This stepping pattern predicts that the distance between the head domains can be long. In fact, the distance between the two head domains is on average ∼18 ± 11 nm (Qiu et al., 2012) or 28.4 ± 10.7 nm (DeWitt et al., 2012), and as large as ∼50 nm (DeWitt et al., 2012). When the two head domains are separated, there is a tendency where stepping of the trailing head is preferred over that of the forward head.In addition, even though the recombinant cytoplasmic dynein is a homodimer, the two heavy chains do not function equally. While walking along the microtubule, the leading head tends to walk on the right side, whereas the trailing head walks on the left side (DeWitt et al., 2012; Qiu et al., 2012). This arrangement suggests that the stepping mechanism is different between the two heads. In fact, when one of the two dynein heavy chains is mutated to abolish the ATPase activity at AAA1, the heterodimeric dynein still moves processively (DeWitt et al., 2012), with the AAA1-mutated dynein heavy chain remaining mostly in the trailing position. This result clearly demonstrates that allosteric communication between the two AAA1 domains is not required for processivity of dynein. It is likely that the mutated head acts as a tether to the microtubule, as it is known that wild-type dynein can step processively along microtubules under external load even in the absence of ATP (Gennerich et al., 2007).These results collectively show that dynein moves by a different mechanism from kinesin. It is likely that the long stalk and tail allow dynein to move in a more flexible manner.

Dyneins in the axoneme

As mentioned in the introduction, >10 dyneins work in motile flagella and cilia. The core of flagella and cilia is the axoneme, which is typically made of nine outer doublet microtubules and two central pair microtubules (“9 + 2,” Fig. 5 A). The axonemes are found in various eukaryotic cells ranging from the single-cell algae C. reinhardtii to human. Recent extensive cryo-electron tomography (cryo-ET) in combination with genetics revealed the highly organized and complex structures of axonemes that are potentially important for regulating dynein activities (Fig. 5, C and D; Nicastro et al., 2006; Bui et al., 2008, 2009, 2012; Heuser et al., 2009, 2012; Movassagh et al., 2010; Lin et al., 2012; Carbajal-González et al., 2013; Yamamoto et al., 2013).Open in a separate windowFigure 5.Arrangement of axonemal dyneins. (A) The schematic structure of the motile 9 + 2 axoneme, viewed from the base of flagella. (B) Quasi-planar asymmetric movement of the 9 + 2 axoneme typically observed in trachea cilia or in C. reinhardtii flagella. (C and D) 3D structure of a 96-nm repeat of doublet microtubules in the distal/central region of C. reinhardtii flagella (EMDB-2132; Bui et al., 2012). N-DRC, the nexin-dynein regulatory complex; ICLC, intermediate chain/light chain complex. Inner arm dynein subspecies are labeled according to Bui et al. (2012) and Lin et al. (2012). To avoid the confusion with the linker domain of dynein, the structures connecting between outer and inner arm dyneins are labeled as “connecters,” which are normally called “linkers.” Putative ATP binding sites of outer arm dynein determined by biotin-ADP (Oda et al., 2013) are indicated by orange circles. The atomic structure of cytoplasmic dynein is placed into the β-heavy chain of outer arm dynein and its enlarged view is shown in the inset. (D) Two doublet microtubules, viewed from the base of flagella.The basic mechanochemical cycles of axonemal dyneins are believed to be shared with cytoplasmic dynein. Dynein c is an inner arm dynein of C. reinhardtii and used extensively to investigate the conformational changes of dynein, as shown in Fig. 2 (A–E), by combining EM and single-particle analysis (Burgess et al., 2003; Roberts et al., 2012). Structural changes of axonemal dyneins complexed with microtubules are also observed by quick-freeze and deep-etch EM (Goodenough and Heuser, 1982; Burgess, 1995), cryo-EM (Oda et al., 2007), negative-staining EM (Ueno et al., 2008), and cryo-ET (Movassagh et al., 2010). According to these studies, the AAA+ head domains are constrained near the A-tubule in the no-nucleotide state. In the presence of nucleotide, the head domains move closer to the B-tubule and/or the minus end of microtubule, and their appearance becomes heterogeneous, which is consistent with the observation of isolated dynein c that shows greater flexibility between tail and stalk in the ADP/vanadate state (Burgess et al., 2003).One of the controversies about the structural changes of axonemal dyneins is whether their stepping involves “rotation” or “shift” of the head (Fig. 2, B to D). The stalk angle relative to the microtubule seems to be a constant ∼60° irrespective of the nucleotide state (Ueno et al., 2008; Movassagh et al., 2010). This angle is similar to the angle obtained from cryo-EM study of the MTBD–microtubule complex (Redwine et al., 2012). Based on these observations, Ueno et al. (2008) and Movassagh et al. (2010) hypothesize that the “shift” of the head pulls the B-microtubule toward the distal end. However, Roberts et al. (2012) propose that the “rotation” of head and stalk is involved in the stepping based on the docking of dynein c head into an averaged flagella tomogram obtained by Movassagh et al. (2010). This issue needs to be resolved by more reliable and high-resolution data, but these two models may not be mutually exclusive. For example, averaged tomograms may be biased toward the microtubule-bound stalk because tomograms are aligned using microtubules.To interpret these structural changes of axonemal dyneins, docking atomic models of dynein is necessary. According to Roberts et al. (2012), the linker face of inner arm dynein c is oriented outside of axoneme (Fig. 5 D). For outer arm dyneins, we used cryo-EM in combination with biotin-ADP-streptavidin labeling and showed that the ATP binding site, most likely AAA1, is on the left side of the AAA+ head (Fig. 5 C; Oda et al. (2013)). Assuming that the stalks extend out of the plane toward the viewer, the linker face of outer arm dynein is oriented outside of axoneme (Fig. 5 C, inset; and Fig. 5 D). If it were the opposite, the AAA1 would be located on the right side of the AAA+ head. In summary, both inner and outer arm dynein seem to have the same arrangement, with their linker face oriented outside of the axoneme (Fig. 5 D).A unique characteristic of axonemal dyneins is that these dyneins are under precise temporal and spatial control. To generate a planer beating motion (Fig. 5 B), dyneins should be asymmetrically controlled, because the dyneins located on doublets 2–4 drive the effective stroke, whereas the ones on doublets 6–8 drive the recovery stroke (Fig. 5 A). Based on the cryo-ET observation of axonemes, Nicastro et al. (2006) proposed that “linkers” between dyneins provide hard-wiring to coordinate motor activities. Because the linkers in axonemes are distinct structures from the linker domain of dynein, for clarity, here we call them “connecters.” According to the recent cryo-ET of proximal region of C. reinhardtii flagella (Bui et al., 2012), there are in fact asymmetries among nine doublets that are localized to the connecters between outer and inner arm dynein, called the outer-inner dynein (OID) connecters (Fig. 5, A and C). Recently we identified that the intermediate chain 2 (IC2) of outer arm dynein is a part of the OID connecters, and a mutation of the N-terminal region of IC2 affects functions of both outer and inner arm dyneins (Oda et al., 2013), which supports the idea that the connecters between dyneins are involved in axonemal dynein regulation.

Closing remarks

Thanks to the crystal structures, we can now design and interpret experiments such as single molecule assays and EM based on the atomic models of dynein. Our understanding of the molecular mechanism and cellular functions of dyneins will be significantly advanced by these experiments in the near future.One important direction of dynein research is to understand the motor mechanisms closer to the in vivo state. For example, the step sizes of cytoplasmic dynein purified from porcine brain is ∼8 nm independent of load (Toba et al., 2006). This result suggests that intermediate and light chain bound to the dynein heavy chain may modulate the motor activity of dynein. To address such questions, Trokter et al. (2012) reconstituted human cytoplasmic dynein complex from recombinant proteins, although the reconstituted dynein did not show robust processive movement. Further studies are required to understand the movement of cytoplasmic dynein. Similarly, axonemal dyneins should also be studied using mutations in a specific gene that does not affect the overall flagella structure, rather than depending on null mutants that cause the loss of large protein complexes.Detailed full chemomechanical cycle of dynein and its regulation are of great importance. Currently, open/closed states of the gap between AAA1 and AAA2 are not clearly correlated with the chemomechanical cycle of dynein. Soaking dynein crystal with nucleotides showed that the presence of ATP alone is not sufficient to close the gap, at least in the crystal (Schmidt et al., 2012). This result suggests that other factors such as a conformational change of the linker are required. For other motors, ATP hydrolysis is an irreversible chemical step, which is often “gated” by strain. In the case of kinesin, ATP is hydrolyzed by a motor domain only when a forward strain is applied by the other motor domain through the neck linker (Cross, 2004; Kikkawa, 2008). A similar strain-based gating mechanism may play important roles in controlling the dynein ATPase. Upon MTBD binding to the forward binding site, a strain between MTBD and tail would be applied to the dynein molecule. The Y-shaped stalk and strut/buttress under the strain would force the head domain to close the gap between AAA4 and AAA5 (Fig. 2 H). Similarly, the linker under the strain would be hooked onto the two finger-like structures and close the gap between AAA1 and AAA2 (Fig. 2 H). The gap closure then triggers ATP hydrolysis by dynein. This strain-based gating of dynein is consistent with the observation that the rate of nonadvancing backward steps, which would depend on ATP hydrolysis, is increased by load applied to dynein (Gennerich et al., 2007). To explain cilia and flagella movement, the geometric clutch hypothesis has been proposed (Lindemann, 2007), which contends that the forces transverse (t-force) to the axonemal axis act on the dynein to regulate dynein activities. In the axoneme, dynein itself can be the sensor of the t-force by the strain-based gating mechanism. Further experiments are required to test this idea, but the strain-based gating could be a shared property of biological motors.     

Ratiometric Imaging of the T-Cell Actin Cytoskeleton Reveals the Nature of Receptor-Induced Cytoskeletal Enrichment

The T-cell actin cytoskeleton mediates adaptive immune system responses to peptide antigens by physically directing the motion and clustering of T-cell receptors (TCRs) on the cell surface. When TCR movement is impeded by externally applied physical barriers, the actin network exhibits transient enrichment near the trapped receptors. The coordinated nature of the actin density fluctuations suggests that they are composed of filamentous actin, but it has not been possible to eliminate de novo polymerization at TCR-associated actin polymerizing factors as an alternative cause. Here, we use a dual-probe cytoskeleton labeling strategy to distinguish between stable and polymerizing pools of actin. Our results suggest that TCR-associated actin consists of a relatively high proportion of the stable cytoskeletal fraction and extends away from the cell membrane into the cell. This implies that actin enrichment at mechanically trapped TCRs results from three-dimensional bunching of the existing filamentous actin network.The T-cell actin cytoskeleton is critical for proper antigen recognition by the mammalian adaptive immune system. During T-cell receptor (TCR) triggering by antigen peptides presented on major histocompatibility proteins (pMHCs) on the surfaces of antigen-presenting cells (APCs), the T-cell actin cytoskeleton adopts a pattern of centrosymmetric retrograde flow (1–3). This simultaneously promotes further TCR triggering (4) and rearranges various T-cell membrane proteins and their APC counterparts into an organized cell-cell interface termed the immunological synapse (IS) (5–7). During this process, TCRs form microclusters that move to the center of the IS in an actin-dependent manner (8,9). When engineered physical barriers interrupt the centripetal motion of TCR clusters, actin flow slows near the pinned microclusters, and the cytoskeletal network transiently accumulates and dissipates at the sites (10,11). The amplitude and duration of the induced cytoskeletal fluctuations are much greater than would be expected for a random distribution of independent objects, indicating that the actin in the local environment is coordinated. Whether this coordination arises from a rearrangement in the existing F-actin network or represents de novo polymerization of the cytoskeleton, as predicted by the association of TCRs with actin polymerizing factors (12), remains unclear. Here, we use a dual-probe cytoskeleton labeling approach that has previously been applied to distinguish between stable and dynamic populations of actin by exploiting the different relative affinities of monomeric actin and actin-binding proteins toward each population (13). This strategy reveals that TCR-associated actin is composed primarily of the stable cytoskeletal fraction and that local enrichment results from three-dimensional bunching of the existing filamentous actin network.Primary T cells from mice transgenic for the AND TCR were triggered using synthetic APCs consisting of supported lipid bilayers functionalized with pMHC and the integrin ligand intercellular adhesion molecule 1. Nanopatterned metal grids on the bilayer substrate acted as diffusion barriers that prevented lateral transport of TCR-pMHC complexes (14,15). Transient enrichment of actin at TCR clusters trapped at these barriers was visualized using fluorescent fusions of actin itself (mKate2-β-actin) and the F-actin binding domain of utrophin (EGFP-UtrCH). Such a dual-probe strategy theoretically allows for discrimination between different pools of actin: dynamic populations characterized by high polymerization and/or short filament fragments tend to be relatively better labeled by direct actin fusions whereas stable populations composed of longer filaments can support higher labeling by fluorescent fusions of F-actin binding proteins. This visualization method has been validated in Xenopus oocytes, where it distinguishes actin populations during wound healing (13). It has not been explicitly applied to T cells; however, simultaneous labeling of the Jurkat cell cytoskeleton using EGFP-actin and Alexa 568-phalloidin reveals distinct populations of actin consistent with the results expected from Xenopus (13,16).Our results show that the T-cell periphery is relatively enriched in mKate2-β-actin (Fig. 1 C, box 1), while EGFP-UtrCH dominates toward the center of the IS (Fig. 1 C, box 2). We infer from this probe distribution that the cytoskeleton at the T-cell periphery is composed of short fragments and is a site of active polymerization, whereas at the center of the IS, actin filaments are longer and predominantly stable. This is consistent with previous models of the T-cell actin network (3,16). An effective way to highlight each of these cytoskeletal regions is to consider the relative ratios of the two probes at each location. In this case, a high UtrCH/actin ratio corresponds to stable actin, and a high actin/UtrCH ratio corresponds to dynamic actin (Fig. 1 D). When T cells are treated with cytochalasin D, an inhibitor of actin polymerization, the overall UtrCH/actin ratio of the cell decreases as would be expected from a general decrease in polymerized actin (see Movie S7 and Movie S8 in the Supporting Material). However, it should be noted that photobleaching can also shift the UtrCH/actin ratio over time. We limit quantitative analysis of the ratio to its spatial gradients at a single time point, but such analysis is possible in systems that permit rigorous calibration for probe expression and photobleaching.Open in a separate windowFigure 1Ratiometric imaging of the cytoskeleton in live T cells distinguishes between dynamic and stable actin populations. (A) mKate2-β-actin, (B) EGFP-UtrCH, and (C) merged images of a triggered T cell show different actin pools. The cutouts in panel C correspond to (1) a region high in dynamic actin featuring short, polymerizing filaments and/or actin monomers and (2) a region with a stable actin population featuring longer filaments to which UtrCH can bind. (D) The UtrCH/actin ratio image highlights pools of relatively high UtrCH (red) or actin (blue). (Scale bars: 5 μm.)Actin enrichment at trapped TCR clusters incorporates both mKate2-β-actin (Fig. 2, A and C) and EGFP-UtrCH (Fig. 2, B and C). The relative UtrCH/actin ratio at these sites (Fig. 2 D, box 2) is quite high relative to nearby background areas (Fig. 2 D, box 1), indicating that the actin is derived primarily from the stable actin population.Open in a separate windowFigure 2Receptor-induced cytoskeletal enrichment at sites of pinned TCRs corresponds to a primarily stable actin fraction. (A) mKate2-β-actin, (B) EGFP-UtrCH, and (C) merged images of a triggered T cell interacting with a nanopatterned supported lipid bilayer show actin enrichment corresponding to putative sites of pinned TCRs. (D) The UtrCH/actin ratio is high at sites displaying actin enrichment, indicating a primarily stable actin fraction in (1) these regions compared to (2) nearby background areas. (Scale bars: 5 μm.)The three-dimensional distribution of TCR-associated actin was analyzed in dual-labeled live T cells using a spinning disk confocal microscope. The recordings show actin extending away from the cell membrane in the vicinity of trapped TCRs, while the rest of the actin cytoskeleton remains relatively flat (Fig. 3 and see Fig. S1 in the Supporting Material). These protrusions of actin away from the membrane surface are predominantly composed of stable, filamentous actin, as indicated by their relatively high UtrCH/actin ratio (Fig. 3 B).Open in a separate windowFigure 3Three-dimensional ratiometric imaging shows that actin enrichment extends away from the cell membrane. Single planes from (A) merged mKate2-β-actin and EGFP-UtrCH and (B) UtrCH/actin ratio three-dimensional stacks show actin enrichment at the cell membrane. Cutouts represent Z projections passing through sites of (1) enrichment and (2) nearby background regions. The color distribution in panel B is analogous to that in Figs. 1D and ​and22D, and is omitted for clarity. (Scale bar: 5 μm in the x axis only. Scale box: 1 μm.)Our interpretation of these results is that the filamentous actin network is relatively dense at sites of pinned TCRs. This is the simplest explanation out of several possibilities, one of which is formin-mediated mKate2-β-actin-deficient actin nucleation (17). Filament bunching at pinned TCRs can arise from consistent biophysical properties without assuming heterogeneity between the biochemistry of these receptors and other actin-associated proteins such as those at the cell edge, where locally high probe ratios are absent.Although TCRs are intentionally trapped as part of this experimental strategy, it is likely APCs can naturally impede TCR ligand mobilities under certain circumstances, and this has been shown to impact T-cell signaling (18,19). Actin architecture near cell surface proteins has been extensively studied in focal adhesions of fibroblasts (20), but the lack of stress fibers in T cells makes it unlikely that the two structures are similar. Thus, receptor-induced cytoskeletal enrichment at TCR clusters adds to the catalog of actin behaviors in situ, which is conveniently probed by techniques such as ratiometric dual-probe imaging in live cells. These techniques can be coupled to various spatial analysis algorithms to further extend their utility.     

Mitochondrial Protein Synthesis,Import, and Assembly

The mitochondrion is arguably the most complex organelle in the budding yeast cell cytoplasm. It is essential for viability as well as respiratory growth. Its innermost aqueous compartment, the matrix, is bounded by the highly structured inner membrane, which in turn is bounded by the intermembrane space and the outer membrane. Approximately 1000 proteins are present in these organelles, of which eight major constituents are coded and synthesized in the matrix. The import of mitochondrial proteins synthesized in the cytoplasm, and their direction to the correct soluble compartments, correct membranes, and correct membrane surfaces/topologies, involves multiple pathways and macromolecular machines. The targeting of some, but not all, cytoplasmically synthesized mitochondrial proteins begins with translation of messenger RNAs localized to the organelle. Most proteins then pass through the translocase of the outer membrane to the intermembrane space, where divergent pathways sort them to the outer membrane, inner membrane, and matrix or trap them in the intermembrane space. Roughly 25% of mitochondrial proteins participate in maintenance or expression of the organellar genome at the inner surface of the inner membrane, providing 7 membrane proteins whose synthesis nucleates the assembly of three respiratory complexes.TO think about how mitochondrial proteins are synthesized, imported, and assembled, it is useful to have a clear picture of the organellar structures that they, along with membrane lipids, compose and the functions that they carry out. As almost every schoolchild learns, mitochondria carry out oxidative phosphorylation, the controlled burning of nutrients coupled to ATP synthesis. Since Saccharomyces cerevisiae prefers to ferment sugars, respiration is a dispensable function and nonrespiring mutants are viable [although they cannot undergo meiosis (Jambhekar and Amon 2008)]. However, mitochondria themselves are not dispensable. A substantial fraction of intermediary metabolism occurs in mitochondria (Strathern et al. 1982), and at least one of these pathways, iron–sulfur cluster assembly, is essential for growth (Kispal et al. 2005). Thus, any mutation that prevents the biogenesis of mitochondria by, for example, preventing the import of protein constituents from the cytoplasm, is lethal (Baker and Schatz 1991).The mitochondria of S. cerevisiae are tubular structures at the cell cortex. While the number of distinct compartments can range from 1 to ∼50 depending upon conditions (Stevens 1981; Pon and Schatz 1991), continual fusion and fission events among them effectively form a single dynamic network (Nunnari et al. 1997). The outer membrane surrounds the tubules. The inner membrane has a boundary domain closely juxtaposed beneath the outer membrane and cristae domains that project internally from the boundary into the matrix (Figure 1A). The matrix is the aqueous compartment surrounded by the inner membrane. The aqueous intermembrane space lies between the membranes and is continuous with the space within cristae.Open in a separate windowFigure 1 Overview of mitochondrial structure in yeast. (A) Schematic of compartments comprising mitochondrial tubules. The outer membrane surrounds the organelle. The inner membrane surrounds the matrix and consists of two domains, the inner boundary membrane and the cristae membranes, which are joined at cristae junctions. The intermembrane space lies between the outer membrane and inner membrane. (B) Electron tomograph image of a highly contracted yeast mitochondrion observed en face (a) with the outer membrane (red) and (b) without the outer membrane. Reprinted by permission from John Wiley & Sons from Mannella et al. (2001).Inner membrane cristae are often depicted as baffles emanating from the boundary domain. However, electron tomography of mitochondria from several species, including yeast, shows that cristae actually emanate from the boundary membrane as narrow tubular structures at sites termed “crista junctions” and expand as they project into the matrix (Frey and Mannella 2000; Mannella et al. 2001) (Figure 1B). It seems clear that the boundary and cristae domains of the inner membrane have distinct compositions with respect to the respiratory complexes that are embedded preferentially in the cristae membrane domains, as well as other components (Vogel et al. 2006; Wurm and Jakobs 2006; Rabl et al. 2009; Suppanz et al. 2009; Zick et al. 2009; Davies et al. 2011).The outer and inner boundary membranes are connected at multiple contact sites, at least some of which are involved in protein translocation and may be transient (Pon and Schatz 1991). In addition, there appear to be firm contact sites, not directly involved with protein translocation, preferentially colocalized with crista junctions (Harner et al. 2011a).Overall, there appear to be ∼1000 distinct proteins in yeast mitochondria (Premsler et al. 2009). One series of proteomic studies on highly purified organelles identified 851 proteins thought to represent 85% of the total number of species (Sickmann et al. 2003; Reinders et al. 2006; Zahedi et al. 2006). Another study identified an additional 209 candidates (Prokisch et al. 2004). A computationally driven search for candidates involved in yeast mitochondrial function, coupled with experiments to assay respiratory function and maintenance of mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA), identified 109 novel candidates, although many of these may not be mitochondrial per se (Hess et al. 2009). Taking the boundary and cristae domains together, the inner membrane is the most protein-rich mitochondrial compartment, followed by the matrix (Daum et al. 1982).Only eight of the yeast mitochondrial proteins detected in proteomic studies are encoded by mtDNA and synthesized within the organelle. They are hydrophobic subunits of respiratory complexes III (bc₁ complex or ubiquinol-cytochrome c reductase), IV (cytochrome c oxidase), and V (ATP synthase), as well as a hydrophilic mitochondrial small subunit ribosomal protein. The remaining ∼99% of yeast mitochondrial proteins are encoded by nuclear genes, synthesized in cytoplasmic ribosomes, and imported into the organelle.An overview of known nuclearly encoded mitochondrial protein functions (Figure 2) reveals that ∼25% of them are involved directly in genome maintenance and expression of the eight major mitochondrial genes (Schmidt et al. 2010). The functions of ∼20% of the proteins are not known. Fifteen percent are involved in the well-known processes of energy metabolism. Protein translocation, folding, and turnover functions occupy ∼10% of mitochondrial proteins.Open in a separate windowFigure 2 Classification of identified mitochondrial proteins according to function. Reprinted by permission from Nature Publishing Group from Schmidt et al. (2010).The following discussion reviews our understanding of the biogenesis of mitochondria starting on the outside, the cytoplasm, and working inward through the mitochondrial compartments.     

Simultaneous Raman Microspectroscopy and Fluorescence Imaging of Bone Mineralization in Living Zebrafish Larvae

Confocal Raman microspectroscopy and fluorescence imaging are two well-established methods providing functional insight into the extracellular matrix and into living cells and tissues, respectively, down to single molecule detection. In living tissues, however, cells and extracellular matrix coexist and interact. To acquire information on this cell-matrix interaction, we developed a technique for colocalized, correlative multispectral tissue analysis by implementing high-sensitivity, wide-field fluorescence imaging on a confocal Raman microscope. As a proof of principle, we study early stages of bone formation in the zebrafish (Danio rerio) larvae because the zebrafish has emerged as a model organism to study vertebrate development. The newly formed bones were stained using a calcium fluorescent marker and the maturation process was imaged and chemically characterized in vivo. Results obtained from early stages of mineral deposition in the zebrafish fin bone unequivocally show the presence of hydrogen phosphate containing mineral phases in addition to the carbonated apatite mineral. The approach developed here opens significant opportunities in molecular imaging of metabolic activities, intracellular sensing, and trafficking as well as in vivo exploration of cell-tissue interfaces under (patho-)physiological conditions.Understanding fundamental biological processes relies on probing intra- and extracellular environments, targeted delivery inside living cells and tissues, and real-time detection and imaging of chemical markers and biomolecules (1,2). Typically, information about molecules in cellular environments is obtained by fluorescence microscopy (3). This is a powerful imaging tool for localizing and imaging samples but requires fluorescent labels and markers and lacks capabilities for quantitative mapping of the chemical composition in complex systems. In this regard, confocal Raman spectroscopic imaging is becoming increasingly popular for label-free chemical detection, due to the inherent scattering nature of all biomolecules (4,5). However, confocal Raman imaging alone does not allow live, high-resolution imaging of larger regions of interest in complex biological tissues. Transcutaneous Raman spectroscopy has the potential as a tool for in vivo bone quality assessment (6), whereas the time- and space-resolved Raman spectroscopy allows the visualization in vivo of the distributions of molecular species in human and yeast cells (4,5,7). Here we developed a correlative Raman and fluorescence imaging method that combines the strengths and compensates for the shortcomings of each of these imaging modalities and allows studying in vivo processes in complex animal models such as zebrafish larvae. There are two main advantages of this approach over previous studies (8,9): low light intensity and high acquisition rate, making it well suited for real-time investigation of live samples.Fig. 1, a and b, shows a schematic representation of the experimental setup and of the optical path, respectively. The two techniques are implemented on a commercially available Raman microscope body to perform simultaneously confocal Raman spectroscopy and wide-field fluorescence imaging (see the Supporting Material for details of components). Briefly, the multimodality of the setup is provided by a combination of dichroic mirrors (DM 1–3) and filters that at turns reflect or transmit the excitation and emission signals. This combination of optics allows simultaneous collection of fluorescence images (2560 × 2160 pixels at 30 fps) with excitation at 400 and 490 nm and spatially resolved Raman spectra with excitation at 633 nm.Open in a separate windowFigure 1Fluorescence imaging of zebrafish larvae. (a) Cartoon of the experimental setup showing how the different modules are assembled onto the microscope for the simultaneous use of confocal Raman spectroscopy and fluorescence imaging. (b) Schematic representation of the optical path. (c) Fluorescence image of calcium-containing tissues, and fluids stained with calcein blue and excited at 400 nm (top). Endothelial cells of transgenic tg(fli1:EGFP)y1 zebrafish excited at 490 nm (bottom).As a proof of principle, we have studied the different mineral phases involved in bone formation of the zebrafish larvae. The bone development process involves the transport of ions to specific cells (osteoblasts) that are responsible for the subsequent mineral formation and deposition. The mineral phase in these cells is a poorly characterized disordered calcium phosphate (10–12). The mineral-bearing intracellular vesicles release their content into the extracellular collagen fibrils, where the mineral subsequently crystallizes as carbonated hydroxyapatite (13). Very little is known about the phase transformations the mineral undergoes after the deposition into the collagen matrix in vivo. Raman spectroscopy studies of bone tissue in organ cultures evidenced that the inorganic mineral deposition proceeds through transient intermediates including octacalcium phosphate-like (OCP) minerals (14).To assess the feasibility of imaging a vertebrate organism, fluorescence images of an entire zebrafish larva (Fig. 1 c) were acquired with the correlative fluorescence-Raman setup. The two images in Fig. 1 c were composed by merging several low-magnification (10×) fluorescence images. Larvae of transgenic zebrafish Tg(fli:EGFP); nac mutants (albino fish) expressing EGFP in the cytoplasm of endothelial cells was used. The newly formed bones were stained by soaking the live embryo noninvasively in the calcium markers calcein blue 0.2% wt or calcein green 0.2% wt.The calcein blue marker is excited at 400 nm. It is labeling bones and can be also detected as a fluorescent marker not associated with formed bones (e.g., stomach) (Fig. 1 c, top). At 490 nm, calcein green and endothelial cells within blood vessels expressing EGFP are excited (Fig. 1 c, bottom). Because EGFP and calcein blue have significantly different excitation and emissions spectra, dual staining with calcein blue (as a mineral marker) and EGFP allows fast-switching dual-wavelength fluorescence imaging. Furthermore, because the spectra of the calcium markers and EGFP do not extend beyond the Raman laser, these fluorophores are appropriate candidates for experiments requiring Raman and fluorescence imaging. The dual-excitation offers the capability of mapping several tissues in a single experiment at the video rate. This, in principle, could be used to probe different parameters of the microenvironment (e.g., pH (15), temperature (16), viscosity (17), and calcium concentration (18)) using wavelength-ratiometric fluorescence imaging which, in correlation with confocal Raman spectroscopy, could open new strategies in studies of the microenvironmental properties in living tissues.The fin rays of zebrafish are a simple, growing bone-model system, in which the fins are gradually mineralized within spatially resolved regions (19). Raman spectroscopy revealed details of the calcein green-stained fin where new bone is deposited (Fig. 2). In Fig. 2 a, a fluorescence image of a zebrafish larva analogous to the top image in Fig. 1 c is shown. The right inset in Fig. 3 b shows higher-magnification (60× water-immersion objective) details of the calcein green-stained fin typical of newly deposited bone. Raman spectra of progressively mineralized bone tissue were acquired within representative regions (Fig. 2 b; numbered 1–4). The spectra exhibit characteristic bands that can be assigned to the organic protein extracellular matrix (amide I, amide III, Phe, C-H, etc.) and the inorganic mineral content (v₁, v₂, v₄ of PO₄³⁻).Open in a separate windowFigure 2Correlative fluorescence-Raman imaging of zebrafish fin bone maturation. (a) Low-resolution (10×) fluorescence image of zebrafish stained with calcein green, with high-resolution (60×) details (right inset in panel b) of a representative fin ray region where Raman spectra (b) of progressively mineralized bone tissue were acquired (numbered 1–4). (Left inset in panel b) Integral of the orientation independent mineral band (v₂) where a clear drop of the mineral content can be observed.The analyses of the orientation-independent v₂ phosphate band revealed a clear drop in the mineral content based on the intensity integral (left inset in Fig. 2 b). Assuming that the spectrum collected in region 4 contains only organic matrix (very small phosphate-related peaks) and by subtracting it from the spectrum of mineral-rich bone region (spectrum 1, proximal part of the tail bone), spectral features of only the mineral phase can be plotted (black line). In addition to the phosphate (PO₄³⁻) and carbonate (CO₃²⁻) bands assignable to the carbonated apatite phase characteristic of the more mature bone mineral, several peaks related to the hydrogen phosphate (HPO₄²⁻) species can be clearly distinguished.The HPO₄²⁻ peaks are characteristic of the OCP mineral phase that has been postulated, together with amorphous calcium phosphate, as an intermediate mineral phase in the process of bone maturation (10,13,14,20), but never observed directly in living animals. Our findings show in vivo potential of the correlative setup envisioned by Crane et al. (14) and confirm that the mineral maturation indeed proceeds through an OCP-like mineral phase. Further analysis of the mineral spectrum in Fig. 2 b reveals an extremely broad band in the region 800–1100 cm⁻¹. This envelope can be related to hydrogenated phosphate species typical of amorphous calcium phosphate precipitated in an acidic environment (see Fig. S1 in the Supporting Material), suggesting that this phase is also contributing to the maturation process.In conclusion, the methodology developed here allows for unprecedented chemical characterization of fluorescently-labeled biological tissues in vivo. The approach is suitable for long-term in vivo characterization of zebrafish bone mineralization under (patho-)physiological conditions. Furthermore, the setup can be upgraded to host other advance fluorescence imaging techniques such as super-resolution microscopy (e.g., photoactivated localization microscopy), two-photon excitation, and Forster resonance energy transfer or fluorescence lifetime imaging microscopy, and be applied on both in vivo and in vitro specimens. This opens significant opportunities in molecular imaging of metabolic activities, intracellular sensing, and trafficking as well as in vivo exploration of cell-tissue interfaces.     

Identification and Characterization of the Missing Pyrimidine Reductase in the Plant Riboflavin Biosynthesis Pathway

Riboflavin (vitamin B₂) is the precursor of the flavin coenzymes flavin mononucleotide and flavin adenine dinucleotide. In Escherichia coli and other bacteria, sequential deamination and reduction steps in riboflavin biosynthesis are catalyzed by RibD, a bifunctional protein with distinct pyrimidine deaminase and reductase domains. Plants have two diverged RibD homologs, PyrD and PyrR; PyrR proteins have an extra carboxyl-terminal domain (COG3236) of unknown function. Arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana) PyrD (encoded by At4g20960) is known to be a monofunctional pyrimidine deaminase, but no pyrimidine reductase has been identified. Bioinformatic analyses indicated that plant PyrR proteins have a catalytically competent reductase domain but lack essential zinc-binding residues in the deaminase domain, and that the Arabidopsis PyrR gene (At3g47390) is coexpressed with riboflavin synthesis genes. These observations imply that PyrR is a pyrimidine reductase without deaminase activity. Consistent with this inference, Arabidopsis or maize (Zea mays) PyrR (At3g47390 or GRMZM2G090068) restored riboflavin prototrophy to an E. coli ribD deletant strain when coexpressed with the corresponding PyrD protein (At4g20960 or GRMZM2G320099) but not when expressed alone; the COG3236 domain was unnecessary for complementing activity. Furthermore, recombinant maize PyrR mediated NAD(P)H-dependent pyrimidine reduction in vitro. Import assays with pea (Pisum sativum) chloroplasts showed that PyrR and PyrD are taken up and proteolytically processed. Ablation of the maize PyrR gene caused early seed lethality. These data argue that PyrR is the missing plant pyrimidine reductase, that it is plastid localized, and that it is essential. The role of the COG3236 domain remains mysterious; no evidence was obtained for the possibility that it catalyzes the dephosphorylation that follows pyrimidine reduction.Riboflavin is the substrate for biosynthesis of the essential flavocoenzymes FMN and FAD, which occur in all kingdoms of life and have roles in diverse redox reactions as well as in other processes such as DNA repair, light sensing, and bioluminescence (Fischer and Bacher, 2005). Plants and many microorganisms can synthesize riboflavin, but humans and other animals cannot, so they must obtain it from the diet (Powers, 2003). Plant foods are important sources of riboflavin for humans, and the riboflavin pathway is a target for engineering biofortified crops (Fitzpatrick et al., 2012).Riboflavin biosynthesis proceeds via the same pathway in bacteria and plants (Fischer and Bacher, 2005; Roje, 2007). This pathway starts from GTP, which is converted by GTP cyclohydrolase II (named RibA in Escherichia coli) to the pyrimidine derivative 2,5-diamino-6-ribosylamino-4(3H)-pyrimidinone 5′-P. Deamination of the pyrimidine ring then yields 5-amino-6-ribosylamino-2,4(1H,3H)-pyrimidinedione 5′-P, and subsequent reduction of the ribosyl moiety gives 5-amino-6-ribitylamino-2,4(1H,3H)-pyrimidinedione 5′-P. After dephosphorylation, this product is condensed with 3,4-dihydroxy-2-butanone 4-P to give 6,7-dimethyl-8-ribityllumazine, whose dismutation yields riboflavin. Figure 1 shows the first four steps of this pathway.Open in a separate windowFigure 1.The first four steps of the riboflavin biosynthesis pathway in bacteria and plants. The enzymes involved are GTP cyclohydrolase II (RibA), pyrimidine deaminase (Deam), pyrimidine reductase (Red), and a specific phosphatase (Pase). Enzymes for which the plant genes are not known are colored red. Intermediates are as follows: 1, 2,5-diamino-6-ribosylamino-4(3H)-pyrimidinone 5′-P; 2, 5-amino-6-ribosylamino-2,4(1H,3H)-pyrimidinedione 5′-P; 3, 5-amino-6-ribitylamino-2,4(1H,3H)-pyrimidinedione 5′-P; 4, 5-amino-6-ribitylamino-2,4(1H,3H)-pyrimidinedione.In E. coli, the deamination and reduction steps are catalyzed by a single bifunctional enzyme, RibD, which has N-terminal deaminase and C-terminal reductase domains that retain their respective activities when expressed separately (Richter et al., 1997; Magalhães et al., 2008). The situation in plants seems superficially similar but is in fact more complex (Gerdes et al., 2012). The bidomain bacterial RibD protein has two types of homologs in plants (Fischer et al., 2004; Chatwell et al., 2006; Chen et al., 2006), here called PyrD and PyrR, both with apparent deaminase and reductase domains (Fig. 2A). Only PyrD, represented by At4g20960, has been studied biochemically; it was found to have pyrimidine deaminase but not reductase activity (Fischer et al., 2004). The function of PyrR, represented by At3g47390, is unknown, although it has been inferred to have reductase activity (Chatwell et al., 2006; Chen et al., 2006; Ouyang et al., 2010) and perhaps to lack deaminase activity (Ouyang et al., 2010). Another mystery surrounding PyrR proteins is the presence of an extra C-terminal domain of unknown function (COG3236 in the Clusters of Orthologous Groups database; Fig. 2A); this domain occurs as a stand-alone protein in many bacteria. One possibility is that it catalyzes the dephosphorylation that follows the pyrimidine reduction step in the pathway (Fig. 1). The phosphatase involved is most likely substrate specific, but it has not been identified in plants or any other organism (Roje, 2007; Gerdes et al., 2012), and genes for enzymes in the same pathway, especially for successive steps, are quite commonly fused (Suhre, 2007). A mutation (phs1) that deleted the COG3236 domain from Arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana) PyrR resulted in a photosensitive phenotype that could be rescued by supplied FAD (Ouyang et al., 2010).Open in a separate windowFigure 2.Structure and phylogeny of plant PyrD and PyrR proteins. A, Domain architectures. The examples shown are Arabidopsis At4g20960 and At3g47390; the predicted plastid targeting peptide (TP) varies in length between species. B, Phylogenetic tree of PyrD and PyrR proteins. Sequences were aligned with ClustalW; the tree was built by the neighbor-joining method with MEGA5. Bootstrap values (%) for 1,000 replicates are next to the nodes. Only the tree topology is shown. Note that the PyrD proteins of green algae (underlined) lack a reductase domain. C, Alignments showing the conservation of the zinc-binding residues (arrowheads) in the deaminase domain of PyrD but not PyrR proteins and the conservation of the predicted substrate-binding residues (asterisks) in the reductase domain of PyrR but not PyrD proteins. The deaminase sequences correspond to residues 45 to 85 of B. subtilis RibD (synonym RibG); the reductase sequences correspond to residues 150 to 210 and (separated by dots) 288 to 292 of B. subtilis RibD. Identical zinc- or substrate-binding residues are black, and conservative replacements are gray. Dashes indicate gaps that maximize the alignment.The plant riboflavin synthesis pathway is considered to be plastidial (Roje, 2007), but this location is based almost solely on bioinformatics and high-throughput proteome analyses (Gerdes et al., 2012). In only one case is there more definitive experimental support: in vitro chloroplast import data for the pathway’s penultimate enzyme, 6,7-dimethyl-8-ribityllumazine synthase (Jordan et al., 1999). Similarly, clear genetic support for the function of most plant riboflavin synthesis enzymes is lacking (Gerdes et al., 2012), the exception being an Arabidopsis RibA homolog (Hedtke and Grimm, 2009).The work reported here established, using maize (Zea mays) and Arabidopsis, that PyrR is indeed the missing pyrimidine reductase, that it lacks deaminase activity, and that its COG3236 domain is not essential for pyrimidine reductase activity and most likely lacks phosphatase activity. We also demonstrated the import of PyrR and PyrD into chloroplasts in vitro and confirmed that the gene for PyrR is essential.     

Interplay between Velocity and Travel Distance of Kinesin-based Transport in the Presence of Tau

Although the disease-relevant microtubule-associated protein tau is known to severely inhibit kinesin-based transport in vitro, the potential mechanisms for reversing this detrimental effect to maintain healthy transport in cells remain unknown. Here we report the unambiguous upregulation of multiple-kinesin travel distance despite the presence of tau, via decreased single-kinesin velocity. Interestingly, the presence of tau also modestly reduced cargo velocity in multiple-kinesin transport, and our stochastic simulations indicate that the tau-mediated reduction in single-kinesin travel underlies this observation. Taken together, our observations highlight a nontrivial interplay between velocity and travel distance for kinesin transport, and suggest that single-kinesin velocity is a promising experimental handle for tuning the effect of tau on multiple-kinesin travel distance.Conventional kinesin is a major microtubule-based molecular motor that enables long-range transport in living cells. Although traditionally investigated in the context of single-motor experiments, two or more kinesin motors are often linked together to transport the same cargo in vivo (1–4). Understanding the control and regulation of the group function of multiple kinesins has important implications for reversing failure modes of transport in a variety of human diseases, particularly neurodegenerative diseases. Tau is a disease-relevant protein enriched in neurons (5,6). The decoration of microtubules with tau is known to strongly inhibit kinesin transport in vitro (7–9), but how kinesin-based transport is maintained in the presence of high levels of tau, particularly in healthy neurons, remains an important open question. To date, no mechanism has been directly demonstrated to reverse the inhibitory effect of tau on kinesin-based transport. Here we present a simple in vitro study that demonstrates the significant upregulation of multiple-kinesin travel distance with decreasing ATP concentration, despite the presence of tau.This investigation was motivated by our recent finding that single-kinesin velocity is a key controller for multiple-kinesin travel distance along bare microtubules (10). The active stepping of each kinesin motor is stimulated by ATP (11), and each kinesin motor remains strongly bound to the microtubule between successive steps (10,11). As demonstrated for bare microtubules (10), with decreasing ATP concentrations, each microtubule-bound kinesin experiences a decreased stepping rate per unit time and spends an increased fraction of time in the strongly bound state; additional unbound kinesins on the same cargo have more time to bind to the microtubule before cargo travel terminates. Thus, reductions in single-kinesin velocity increase the probability that at least one kinesin motor will remain bound to the microtubule per unit time, thereby increasing the travel distance of each cargo (10). Because this effect only pertains to the stepping rate of each individual kinesin and does not address the potential presence of roadblocks such as tau on the microtubules, we hypothesized in this study that single-kinesin velocity may be exploited to relieve the impact of tau on multiple-kinesin travel distance.We focused our in vitro investigation on human tau 23 (htau23, or 3RS tau), an isoform of tau that exhibits the strongest inhibitory effect on kinesin-based transport (7–9). Importantly, htau23 does not alter the stepping rate of individual kinesins (7,9), supporting our hypothesis and enabling us to decouple single-kinesin velocity from the potential effects of tau. We carried out multiple-kinesin motility experiments using polystyrene beads as in vitro cargos (8,10), ATP concentration as an in vitro handle to controllably tune single-kinesin velocity (10,11), and three input kinesin concentrations to test the generality of potential findings for multiple-kinesin transport. Combined with previous two-kinesin studies (10,12), our measurements of travel distance (Fig. 1 A) indicate that the lowest kinesin concentration employed (0.8 nM) corresponds to an average of ∼2–3 kinesins per cargo. Note that in the absence of tau, the observed decrease in bead velocity at the higher kinesin concentrations (Fig. 1 A) is consistent with a recent in vitro finding (13). At 1 mM ATP, htau23 reduced kinesin-based travel distance by a factor of two or more (Fig. 1, A and B). This observation is in good agreement with previous reports (7,8).Open in a separate windowFigure 1Distributions of multiple-kinesin travel distances measured at three experimental conditions, to verify the effect of tau (A and B) and to investigate the impact of single-kinesin velocity on the tau effect (B and C). Shaded bars at 8.7 μm indicate counts of travel exceeding the field of view. The mean travel distance (d; ± standard error of mean, SEM), sample size (n), and corresponding mean velocity (v; ± SEM) are indicated. MT denotes microtubule. Mean travel distance increased substantially at 20 μM ATP (C), despite the presence of htau23. This effect persisted across all three kinesin concentrations tested (left to right).Consistent with our hypothesis, reducing the available ATP concentration to 20 μM increased the multiple-kinesin travel distance by >1.4-fold for all three input kinesin concentrations (Fig. 1, B and C), despite the presence of htau23. The corresponding reduction in single-kinesin velocity with decreasing ATP concentration (10,11) is reflected in the ∼3.4-fold reduction in the measured bead velocities (Fig. 1, B and C). Therefore, the strong negative relationship between single-kinesin velocity and multiple-kinesin travel distance occurs not only for bare microtubules (10), but also for tau-decorated microtubules.What causes the observed increase in travel distance at the lower ATP concentration (Fig. 1, B and C)? In addition to the mechanism discussed above for the case of bare microtubules (10), an intriguing mechanism was suggested by recent studies of tau-microtubule interactions in which htau23 was observed to dynamically diffuse along microtubule lattices (14,15): reducing the stepping rate of a microtubule-bound kinesin may effectively increase the probability that a tau roadblock can diffuse away before the kinesin takes its next step.Perhaps surprisingly, although htau23 does not impact single-kinesin velocity (7,9), we observed a modest reduction in the average velocity of multiple-kinesin transport in experiments using tau-decorated microtubules (Fig. 1, A and B). This decreased velocity reflects a substantially larger variance in the instantaneous velocity for bead trajectories in the presence of htau23 (see Fig. S1 in the Supporting Material), as quantified by parsing each bead trajectory into a series of constant-velocity segments using a previously developed automatic software incorporating Bayesian statistics (16).To test the possibility that single-kinesin travel distance impacts multiple-kinesin velocity, we performed stochastic simulations (see the Supporting Material) that assumed N identical kinesin motors available for transport and included kinesin’s detachment kinetics (17). Previously, this model successfully captured multiple-dynein travel distances in vivo using single-dynein characteristics measured in vitro (18). In this study, we introduced one (and only one) free parameter to reflect the probability of each bound kinesin encountering tau at each step. When encountering tau, each kinesin has a 54% probability of detaching from the microtubule (interpolated from Fig. 2A of Dixit et al. (7)); the undetached kinesin is assumed to remain engaged in transport and completes its step along the microtubule despite the presence of tau.Remarkably, our simple simulation suggested that the tau-mediated reduction in single-kinesin travel is sufficient to reduce multiple-kinesin velocity (Fig. 2 A). The majority of the velocity decrease is predicted to occur at the transition from single-kinesin to two-kinesin transport (Fig. 2). Further decreases in cargo velocity with increasing motor number are predicted to be modest and largely independent of tau (Fig. 2 B). The results of our simulation remain qualitatively the same when evaluated at two bounds (40 and 65%) encompassing the interpolated 54% probability of kinesin detaching at tau (see Fig. S2).Open in a separate windowFigure 2Stochastic simulations predict a tau-dependent reduction in multiple-kinesin velocity, assuming that the only effect of tau protein is to prematurely detach kinesin from the microtubule (or, to reduce single-kinesin travel distance). (A) Average velocity of cargos carried by the indicated number of kinesins was evaluated at 1 mM ATP, and for four probabilities that a kinesin may encounter tau at each step. Mean velocity was evaluated using 600 simulated trajectories for all simulation conditions. Error bars indicate SEM. (B) Change in cargo velocity with each additional kinesin (ΔVel/kinesin) as a function of tau-encounter probability. These values were calculated from cargo velocities shown in panel A. Error bars indicate SEM.We note that our simple simulations do not consider the possibility that kinesin may pause in front of a tau roadblock, as previously reported in Dixit et al. (7). We omitted this consideration because the interaction strength between kinesin and the microtubule in such a paused state is unknown. In a multiple-motor geometry, could a paused kinesin be dragged along by the other motors bound to the same cargo? Could a tau roadblock be forcefully swept off the microtubule surface by the collective motion of the cargo-motor complex? Significant experimental innovations are necessary to specifically address these questions in future multiple-motor assays and to guide modeling efforts. Nonetheless, our simple simulation demonstrates that reducing single-kinesin travel distance is sufficient to decrease multiple-kinesin travel distance.Taken together, our observations highlight a nontrivial interplay between velocity and travel distance for kinesin-based transport in the presence of tau. We uncover a previously unexplored dual inhibition of tau on kinesin-transport: in addition to limiting cargo travel distance, the tau-mediated reduction in single-kinesin travel distance also leads to a modest reduction in multiple-kinesin velocity. We provide what we believe to be the first demonstration of the unambiguous upregulation of multiple-kinesin travel distance despite the presence of tau, via reducing single-kinesin velocity, suggesting a mechanism that could be harnessed for future therapeutic interventions in diseases that result from aberrant kinesin-based transport.     

Cytokinetic astralogy

Division plane specification in animal cells has long been presumed to involve direct contact between microtubules of the anaphase mitotic spindle and the cell cortex. In this issue, von Dassow et al. (von Dassow et al. 2009. J. Cell. Biol. doi:10.1083/jcb.200907090) challenge this assumption by showing that spindle microtubules can effectively position the division plane at a distance from the cell cortex.Cell division, or cytokinesis, is accomplished via constriction of an equatorially localized contractile ring composed of filamentous actin and myosin II (Rappaport, 1996). Accurate division plane specification is essential to properly partition the cytoplasm and permit each daughter cell to receive a single copy of the genome. To ensure this accuracy, microtubules of the mitotic spindle signal to the cell cortex upon anaphase onset and promote assembly of the contractile ring between the separating chromosomes. The precise mechanism by which microtubules position the contractile ring, however, remains elusive.Early models on the nature of the spindle-derived signal proposed that astral rays (later found to be microtubules) position the division plane by either locally promoting contractility at the cell equator or inhibiting contractility at the cell poles (Rappaport, 1996). Recent evidence, though, suggests that distinct microtubule populations within a single cell provide multiple signals to promote accurate division (Canman et al., 2003; Bringmann and Hyman, 2005; Chen et al., 2008; Foe and von Dassow, 2008; von Dassow, 2009).The anaphase mitotic spindle contains several subtypes of microtubules, each of which is likely to contribute to division plane specification. Although kinetochore microtubules drive chromosome segregation during anaphase, nonkinetochore microtubules extend and maintain close proximity with the assembling central spindle (Mastronarde et al., 1993). Central spindle microtubules are highly stable (Salmon et al., 1976) and organize into an antiparallel bundled array between the separating chromosomes (Mastronarde et al., 1993). Preventing central spindle assembly usually results in a complete failure in cytokinesis, and prevents division plane specification in many cell types (Glotzer, 2005). Astral microtubules, however, are highly dynamic and grow out circumferentially from the centrosomes toward the cell cortex. Increasing evidence suggests that the astral microtubule signal inhibits contractility (see below; Canman et al., 2000; Kurz et al., 2002; Lewellyn et al., 2009).Regardless of the mechanism of division plane specification via microtubules, nearly all current models depend on direct contact between microtubules of the mitotic spindle and the cell cortex. Most of these models were based on observations that at the time of division plane specification, astral microtubules contact the cell cortex in nearly all systems studied. Nonkinetochore and/or central spindle microtubules have also been proposed to deliver critical contractile signals to the cell equator (Murata-Hori and Wang, 2002; Canman et al., 2003; Somers and Saint, 2003; Verbrugghe and White, 2004; Lewellyn et al., 2009; Vale et al., 2009). Yet in many cell types (especially early embryos), central spindle microtubules are at some distance from the cell cortex during division plane specification. Despite this, signal delivery for both astral and central spindle microtubules was proposed to occur via direct transport along microtubules to the cell cortex. The study of von Dassow et al. in this issue, however, indicates that accurate division plane specification does not require any close microtubule/cortical contact and may occur via a diffusion-based mechanism (see also Salmon and Wolniak, 1990).By treating echinoderm and Xenopus embryos with controlled levels of trichostatin A (TSA), which destabilizes acetylated dynamic microtubules via inhibition of the tubulin deacetylase HDAC6 (Matsuyama et al., 2002), von Dassow et al. (2009) were able to preferentially prevent astral microtubule growth while leaving central spindle microtubules intact. TSA treatment did not block anaphase onset or central spindle assembly, but resulted in the complete disruption of all direct microtubule contact with the cell cortex. Nevertheless, TSA-treated cells were able to undergo cytokinesis successfully (Fig. 1 A). The lack of astral microtubules in TSA-treated cells was also recapitulated by double centrosome ablation, and again the cells were able to undergo cytokinesis (Fig. 1 B). In both experiments, cytokinesis occurred in a timely manner, but the contractile ring was broader than in control cells. Together, these data suggest that spindle microtubules are sufficient to provide a diffusible stimulatory signal capable of defining the cell division plane without any direct contact with the cell cortex (von Dassow et al., 2009).Open in a separate windowFigure 1.Testing models of division plane specification by targeting distinct microtubule populations. By selectively eliminating astral microtubules with either controlled TSA-treatment (A) or by double centrosome ablation (B), von Dassow et al. (2009) provide strong evidence that microtubule contact with the cell cortex is not essential for successful cytokinesis. When a single centrosome was ablated, the division plane was displaced away from the ablated aster (B); this suggests that astral microtubules provide an inhibitory signal. Further, anucleate cells would only complete cytokinesis if the intracentrosomal distance exceeded the distance from the centrosomes to the cell cortex (C).The authors noticed that cytokinesis occurred selectively at a position with reduced microtubule density in control cells; therefore, they explored the role of astral microtubules in division plane positioning. By selectively ablating one centrosome just before anaphase onset, von Dassow et al. (2009) were also able to provide strong support for an inhibitory role of astral microtubules in division plane specification. When a single centrosome was ablated, the division plane was displaced away from the remaining astral microtubules and toward the ablated centrosome (Fig. 1 B). Further evidence for an inhibitory role of astral microtubules in cytokinesis came from close examination of the intracentrosomal distance in anucleate cells that were able to undergo cytokinesis relative to those that were not. Cells were only able to undergo cytokinesis when the intracentrosomal distance exceeded the distance from the centrosomes to the cell cortex (Fig. 1 C), which suggests that cytokinesis requires an aster-free zone. The authors propose a mechanism in these anucleate cells whereby global activation of contractility drives division plane specification refined by a zone of astral separation (von Dassow et al., 2009). However, one possibility is that a central spindle still forms in these anucleate cells and thus provides the same diffusion-based signal that promotes division in cells without asters. Indeed, antiparallel arrays of bundled microtubules that resemble the central spindle are known to form between asters without intervening chromosomes in other systems (Savoian et al., 1999).To summarize, the results described by von Dassow et al. (2009) support a model in which central spindle microtubules provide a diffusible stimulatory signal to promote the assembly of a broad contractile ring, which is then refined by astral microtubules into a tight contractile ring. It is tempting to speculate on the molecular nature of this diffusible signal and mechanism of the astral refinement during cytokinesis. Signaling via the small GTPase Rho is required for cytokinesis and is dependent on spindle microtubules (Bement et al., 2005; Piekny et al., 2005). von Dassow et al. (2009) showed that in TSA-treated cells lacking astral microtubules, the equatorial zone of active Rho GTPase is broader relative to control cells. Rho activation is promoted (at least in part) via the central spindle–localized GTP exchange factor, ECT2 (Glotzer, 2005). In parallel, the GTPase-activating protein (GAP) CYK4/MgcRacGAP also associates with the central spindle, where it acts to both limit the zone of Rho activity (Miller and Bement, 2009) and to promote the inactivation of another small GTPase, Rac (D''Avino et al., 2004; Yoshizaki et al., 2004; Canman et al., 2008). Perhaps in parallel to central spindle mediated activation of Rho signaling, local inactivation of the inhibitory Rac signal via CYK4 GAP activity would further specify the division plane, even at a distance (Fig. 2). When the dynamic asters are present, they could then additionally amplify Rac signaling at the cell poles via a similar mechanism to what occurs during cell motility (Wittmann and Waterman-Storer, 2001). This local feedback loop would reinforce the positive signal coming from the central spindle via Rho activation and could help delimit active Rho at the cell equator (Fig. 2). Certainly, understanding how Rho activation can be propagated to the cell cortex via diffusion in such an accurate manner will be a major future challenge.Open in a separate windowFigure 2.Model for central spindle–mediated signaling via Rho family small GTPases. Central spindle–localized guanine nucleotide exchange factor ECT2 leads to Rho activation at the cell equator. At the same time, central spindle–localized CYK4 (a Rho family GAP) would also locally inactivate the inhibitory Rac signal. Further refinement of the zone of active Rho by astral microtubule–activated Rac could then sharpen the Rho zone into a tight contractile ring.     

Chlorophyll f-driven photosynthesis in a cavernous cyanobacterium

Chlorophyll (Chl) f is the most recently discovered chlorophyll and has only been found in cyanobacteria from wet environments. Although its structure and biophysical properties are resolved, the importance of Chl f as an accessory pigment in photosynthesis remains unresolved. We found Chl f in a cyanobacterium enriched from a cavernous environment and report the first example of Chl f-supported oxygenic photosynthesis in cyanobacteria from such habitats. Pigment extraction, hyperspectral microscopy and transmission electron microscopy demonstrated the presence of Chl a and f in unicellular cyanobacteria found in enrichment cultures. Amplicon sequencing indicated that all oxygenic phototrophs were related to KC1, a Chl f-containing cyanobacterium previously isolated from an aquatic environment. Microsensor measurements on aggregates demonstrated oxygenic photosynthesis at 742 nm and less efficient photosynthesis under 768- and 777-nm light probably because of diminished overlap with the absorption spectrum of Chl f and other far-red absorbing pigments. Our findings suggest the importance of Chl f-containing cyanobacteria in terrestrial habitats.The textbook concept that oxygenic phototrophs primarily use radiation in the visible range (400–700 nm) has been challenged by several findings of unique cyanobacteria and chlorophylls (Chl) over the past two decades (Miyashita et al., 1996; Chen et al., 2010; Croce and van Amerongen, 2014) Unicellular cyanobacteria in the genus Acaryochloris primarily employ Chl d for oxygenic photosynthesis at 700–720 nm (Miyashita et al., 1996) and thrive in shaded habitats with low levels of visible light but replete of near-infrared radiation (NIR, >700 nm, Kühl et al., 2005; Behrendt et al., 2011, 2012). Furthermore, Chl f was recently discovered in filamentous (Chen et al., 2010; Airs et al., 2014; Gan et al., 2014) and unicellular cyanobacteria (Miyashita et al., 2014), enabling light harvesting even further into the NIR region up to ∼740 nm, often aided by employing additional far-red light-absorbing pigments such as Chl d and phycobiliproteins (Gan et al., 2014). Whereas the biochemical structure (Willows et al., 2013) and biophysical properties (Li et al., 2013; Tomo et al., 2014) of Chl f have been studied in detail, the actual importance of this new chlorophyll for photosynthesis is hardly explored (Li et al., 2014).Chlorophyll f has been found in cyanobacteria originating from aquatic/wet environments: the filamentous Halomicronema hongdechloris from stromatolites in Australia (Chen et al., 2012), a unicellar morphotype (Strain KC1) from Lake Biwa in Japan (Akutsu et al., 2011; Miyashita et al., 2014) and a filamentous Leptolyngbya sp. strain (JSC-1, Gan et al., 2014) from a hot-spring and in a unicellular Chlorogloeopsis fritschii strain from rice paddies (Airs et al., 2014). In this study, we report on a unicellular Chl f-containing cyanobacterium originating from a wet cavernous habitat and demonstrate its capability of NIR-driven oxygenic photosynthesis. Enrichments of the new cyanobacterium were obtained from a dense dark green-blackish biofilm dominated by globular morphotypes of Nostocaceae growing on moist limestone outside Jenolan Caves, NSW, Australia. The sampling site was heavily shaded even during mid-day with low irradiance levels of 400- to 700-nm light varying from 0.5 to 5 μmol photons m⁻² s⁻¹. Biofilms were carefully scraped off the substratum and kept in shaded zip-lock bags in a moist atmosphere until further processing. Samples were then incubated at 28 °C in a f/2 medium under NIR at 720 nm (∼10 μmol photons m⁻² s⁻¹) yielding conspicuous green cell aggregates after several months of incubation. Repeated transfer of the aggregates into fresh medium resulted in a culture predominated by green cell clusters (Figure 1a), exhibiting orange-red fluorescence upon excitation with blue light (Figure 1b). Transmission electron microscopy revealed that the green clusters consisted of slightly elongated unicellular cyanobacteria (∼1- to 2-μm wide and ∼2- to 3-μm long), with stacked thylakoids and embedded in a joint polymer matrix (Figure 1c). Hyperspectral microscopy (Kühl and Polerecky, 2008) of the clusters revealed distinct troughs in the transmission spectra at absorption maxima indicative of Chl a (675–680 nm) and Chl f (∼720 nm; Figure 1d, red line). In situ spectral irradiance measurements at the sampling site showed strong depletion of visible wavelengths in the 480- to 710-nm range (Figure 1d, gray line), whereas highest light levels were found in the near-infrared region of the solar spectrum at 710–900 nm. The presence of Chl a and f was further confirmed in enrichment cultures using high-performance liquid chromatography-based pigment analysis (Figure 1e, Supplementary Figure S1), while no Chl d was detected. In addition, weak spectral signatures of carotenoids and phycobilins, with absorption occurring at ∼495 and 665 nm, were evident in the hyperspectral data. Cyanobacteria, including those producing Chl d/f, are known to actively remodel their pigment content in response to the available light spectrum (Stomp et al., 2007; Chen and Scheer, 2013; Gan et al., 2014) and Chl d/f has almost exclusively been found in cyanobacteria grown under far-red light and not under visible light (Kühl et al., 2005; Chen et al., 2010; Airs et al., 2014; Gan et al., 2014; Li et al., 2014; Miyashita et al., 2014). Recent work describes this acclimation response as ‘Far-Red Light photoacclimation'' (FaRLiP), which, in strain JSC-1, comprises a global change in gene expression and structural remodeling of the PSII/PSI core proteins and phycobilisome constituents (Gan et al., 2014). The extent to which this arrangement results in optimized photosynthetic performance is only known for the NIR (=710 nm)-acclimated strain JSC-1, where exposure to wavelengths >695 nm resulted in 40% higher O₂ evolution rates as compared with cells that were previously adapted to red light (645 nm; Gan et al., 2014). Yet the discrimination of actinic wavelengths and their relative effect on gross photosynthesis in Chl f-containing cells needs further investigation. Using an O₂ microsensor and the light–dark shift method (Revsbech et al., 1983) on embedded Chl f-containing aggregates, we found maximal gross photosynthesis rates (∼1.06 μmol O₂ cm⁻³ s⁻¹) to occur at irradiances of ∼250 μmol photons m⁻² s⁻¹ of 742 nm (half-bandwidth, HBW, 25 nm, Figures 2a and b) with light saturation to occur very early at ∼35 μmol photons m⁻² s⁻¹. Further red-shifted actinic light, that is, 768 nm (HBW 28 nm) and 777 nm (HBW 30 nm), yielded lower O₂ evolution rates, which, in all likelihood, are an effect of the diminished overlap with far-red light-absorbing pigments, including Chl f (Figures 2a and b). As O₂ evolution rates were measured on non-axenic cell aggregates, 16S rDNA amplicon sequencing was employed to determine the microbial diversity found within the enrichment culture. This revealed the presence of a variety of bacterial types, including anoxygenic phototrophs, yet all sequences for known oxygenic phototrophs in the data set (∼9.3% of all reads on the order level, Supplementary Figure S2) formed a single operational taxonomic unit (OTU) closely affiliated with the Chl f-containing strain KC1 (Miyashita et al., 2014, Figure 2c).Open in a separate windowFigure 1Imaging and pigment analysis of Chl f-containing cyanobacteria isolated from a cavernous low-light environment. (a) Representative bright field microscope image of cultured cells grown under 720 nm NIR. (b) Fluorescence image of the same cells as in a, excited at 450–490 nm, with emission being detected at >510 nm. (c) Transmission electron microscopy of a Chl f-containing cyanobacterium with densely stacked thylakoid membranes. (d) Transmittance spectrum of cell aggregate determined by hyperspectral imaging (red line). Ambient light conditions at the site of isolation (gray line), as measured by a spectroradiometer. Note the Chl f-specific in vivo absorption at ∼720 nm in the transmittance spectrum (dotted line). Small insert picture denotes the cells and area of interest (black arrow) from which the spectrum was taken. (e) In vitro absorption spectrum of Chl f extracted from enrichment cultures and analyzed via high-performance liquid chromatography. The two Chl f-specific absorption peaks (404 and 704 nm in acetone:MeOH solvent) are indicated.Open in a separate windowFigure 2Taxonomic affiliation and O₂ evolution of Chl f-containing cells as determined by O₂ microelectrode measurements and 16 S rDNA amplicon sequencing. (a) Emission spectra of narrow-band light-emitting diodes (LEDs) used in this study, with peak emissions at 742, 768 and 777 nm indicated by a–c, respectively. (b) Gross photosynthesis measured via an O₂ microsensor placed in a clump of agarose-embedded Chl f-containing cells. Different NIR irradiance was administered by the LEDs in a and by altering the distance of the LEDs to the embedded cells. (c) Phylogenetic affiliation of known Chl f and/or Chl d-containing cyanobacteria (highlighted in gray) and their respective habitat/place of isolation. Taxonomy was determined by clustering all known oxygenic phototrophs found in enrichment cultures from this study (at order level) into a single OTU (=292 bp length, see Supplementary Materials for details). Phylogeny was inferred using Maximum-likelihood in conjunction with the GTR +I +G nucleotide substitution model, tree stability was tested using bootstrapping with 100 replicates. The analysis involved 39 nucleotide sequences each truncated to a length of 292 bp. Here, the green-sulphur bacterium Chlorobium tepidum TLS was chosen as the outgroup.This advocates that cells from our enrichment culture are related to KC1 cells and supports, in conjunction with further morphological-, physiological- and ultrastructural evidence, that Chl f is extending the usable light spectrum for oxygenic photosynthesis in a cavernous low-light environment. Given the lifestyle and known habitats of recognized Chl d/f-producing cyanobacteria (Figure 2c), we propose that many, if not all, surface-associated cyanobacteria are intrinsically capable of producing far-red light-absorbing pigments and to actively employ them in oxygenic photosynthesis as a result of FaRLiP or similar, yet unknown, mechanisms.     

Tracking Single Serotonin Transporter Molecules at the Endoplasmic Reticulum and Plasma Membrane

Transmembrane proteins are synthesized and folded in the endoplasmic reticulum (ER), an interconnected network of flattened sacs or tubes. Up to now, this organelle has eluded a detailed analysis of the dynamics of its constituents, mainly due to the complex three-dimensional morphology within the cellular cytosol, which precluded high-resolution, single-molecule microscopy approaches. Recent evidences, however, pointed out that there are multiple interaction sites between ER and the plasma membrane, rendering total internal reflection microscopy of plasma membrane proximal ER regions feasible. Here we used single-molecule fluorescence microscopy to study the diffusion of the human serotonin transporter at the ER and the plasma membrane. We exploited the single-molecule trajectories to map out the structure of the ER close to the plasma membrane at subdiffractive resolution. Furthermore, our study provides a comparative picture of the diffusional behavior in both environments. Under unperturbed conditions, the majority of proteins showed similar mobility in the two compartments; at the ER, however, we found an additional 15% fraction of molecules moving with 25-fold faster mobility. Upon degradation of the actin skeleton, the diffusional behavior in the plasma membrane was strongly influenced, whereas it remained unchanged in the ER.Live-cell microscopy and three-dimensional electron tomography has boosted our understanding of endoplasmic reticulum (ER) dynamics and morphology. Proteins have been identified which regulate the formation of cisternae versus tubelike membranes, and the contacts between ER and the various cellular organelles have been studied in detail (1). Little information, however, is available when it comes to protein dynamics and organization within the ER membrane. Its complex three-dimensional topology hampers standard diffraction-limited fluorescence microscopy approaches: in fluorescence recovery after photobleaching, for example, the obtained diffusion coefficients can be several-folds off, if the ER morphology is not correctly taken into account (2). A method is therefore needed which allows for resolving molecular movements on length scales below the typical dimensions of the ER structures.In principle, single-molecule tracking would provide the required spatial resolution due to the high precision in localizing the moving point emitters: localization errors of <40 nm can be easily achieved (3). This technique has given rise to multiple studies, in which the paths of the diffusing objects were used to make conclusions on the properties of the environment; particularly, the plasma membrane has become a favorite target for such investigations, yielding precise determinations of the diffusion coefficients of a variety of membrane proteins or lipids (4).Here, we report what is, to our knowledge, the first application of single-molecule tracking for a comparative study of the diffusion dynamics of a membrane protein at the ER versus the plasma membrane. As the protein of interest, we chose the human serotonin transporter (SERT): it is a polytopic membrane protein containing 12 transmembrane domains, with both C- and N-termini residing in the cytoplasm. Stable SERT oligomers of various degrees were observed to coexist in the plasma membrane (5). Functionally, SERT (6) is a pivotal element in shaping serotonergic neurotransmission: SERT-mediated high-affinity uptake of released serotonin clears the synaptic cleft and supports refilling of vesicular stores (7). Wild-type SERT (SERT-wt) is efficiently targeted to the presynaptic plasma membrane, whereas the truncation of its C-terminus (SERT-ΔC30) retains the mutant protein in the ER (8). The N-terminal mGFP- and eYFP-fusion constructs of the two versions of SERT thus allowed us to specifically address SERT located at the ER (eYFP-SERT-ΔC30) or at the plasma membrane (mGFP-SERT-wt (7)).Our experiments were performed at 37°C on proteins heterologously expressed in CHO cells. Total internal reflection (TIR) illumination afforded a reduction in background fluorescence and allowed for selective imaging of single mGFP-SERT-wt molecules at the cells’ plasma membrane or single eYFP-SERT-ΔC30 molecules at plasma membrane-proximal ER (Fig. 1 and see the Supporting Material). TIR was particularly crucial for single-molecule imaging of the ER-retained mutant, where out-of-focus background would surpass the weak single-molecule signals in epi-illumination.Open in a separate windowFigure 1Schematics of the plasma membrane (PM) and a part of the ER containing mGFP-SERT-wt or the ER-retained eYFP-SERT-ΔC30 mutant, respectively. Both can be excited by total internal reflection fluorescence (TIRF) excitation. Experiments were carried out either on cells expressing mGFP-SERT-wt or eYFP-SERT-ΔC30.For both mutants, the majority of molecules were mobile: in fluorescence-recovery-after-photobleaching experiments we observed a mobile fraction of 82 ± 8% for mGFP-SERT-wt and 91 ± 4% for eYFP-SERT-ΔC30. For single-molecule tracking, the high surface density of signals was reduced by completely photobleaching a rectangular part of the cell in epi-illumination; after a brief recovery period, a few single-molecule signals had entered the bleached area and could be monitored and tracked at high signal/noise using TIR excitation. Samples were illuminated stroboscopically for t_ill = 2 ms, and movies of 500 frames were recorded with a delay of t_del = 6 ms; the short delay times ensured that even rapidly diffusing molecules hardly reached the borders of the ER tubes between two consecutive frames. This illumination protocol was run for 20 times per cell, yielding ∼2500 trajectories per cell.The single-molecule localizations were first used to map those areas that are accessible to the diffusing proteins. eYFP-SERT-ΔC30 showed distinct hotspots, representing plasma membrane-proximal ER, excitable by the evanescent field (Fig. 2 A). These hotspots hardly moved within the timescale of an experiment (tens of minutes, see Fig. S1 in the Supporting Material); indeed, remarkable ER stability was previously observed using superresolution microscopy (9). In contrast, a rather homogeneous distribution was observed for mGFP-SERT-wt in the plasma membrane (Fig. 2 B).Open in a separate windowFigure 2Superresolution and tracking data at the ER and the plasma membrane. Superresolution images are shown for the ER-retained SERT mutant eYFP-SERT-ΔC30 (A) and for mGFP-SERT-wt in the plasma membrane (B). (C and D) Diffusion coefficients of eYFP-SERT-ΔC30 (C) and mGFP-SERT-wt (D) are shown as normalized histograms before (blue) and after (red) Cytochalasin D treatment. Data were fitted by Gaussian mobility distributions (see Table S1 in the Supporting Material for the fit results).Next, we compared the mobility of the observed proteins. Single-molecule localizations were linked to trajectories as described in Gao and Kilfoil (10), and the apparent diffusion coefficient, D, of each molecule was estimated from the first two points of the mean-square displacement membrane. The distribution of log₁₀ D showed a pronounced single peak (Fig. 2 D). It could be well fitted by a linear combination of two Gaussian functions, with the major fraction (85%) characterized by D_wt = 0.30 μm²/s; a broad shoulder to the left indicates the presence of proteins that are immobilized during the observation period. In contrast, the mobility of the ER-retained mutant showed a substantially different distribution, containing two clearly visible peaks (Fig. 2 C). We fitted the data with a three-component Gaussian model: the main fraction (82%) behaved similar to SERT at the plasma membrane, with D_ΔC30 = 0.32 μm²/s. In addition, a large fraction (15%) with high mobility of D_ΔC30 = 7.8 μm²/s and a minor fraction (3%) with low mobility was observed. The proteins responded as expected to degradation of the actin membrane skeleton (red bars in Fig. 2, C and D): at the plasma membrane, the mobility of mGFP-SERT-wt increased 4.6-fold (mean values), whereas at the ER membrane there was only a minor change for eYFP-SERT-ΔC30 mobility (1.06-fold increase; note that the ER is not connected to actin filaments (11)).The observation of a high mobility subfraction at the ER membrane is surprising. In general, the presence of obstacles—irrespective of whether randomly distributed or clustered, mobile or immobile—reduces the diffusivity of mobile tracers in a membrane (12). It is generally assumed that the high protein density in cell membranes is responsible for the rather low fluidity when compared to synthetic membranes (compare, e.g., Saxton and Jacobson (13) with Weiss et al. (14)). Interestingly, the observed diffusion constant of 7.8 μm²/s is of similar order as the mobility determined for various proteins in synthetic lipid membranes (14). It is thus tempting to hypothesize the presence of extended protein-depleted regions of higher fluidity within the ER membrane; such membrane domains were indeed observed already at the plasma membrane (15). We were also concerned, however, that protein degradation fragments could have contributed to our data: the three-dimensional mobility of an 85-kDa protein is ∼10 μm²/s (16), similar to the high mobility diffusion constant of eYFP-SERT-ΔC30.We tested the two explanations by analyzing the spatial distribution of fast (D_ΔC30 > 1 μm²/s) versus slow trajectories (D_ΔC30 < 1 μm²/s) of eYFP-SERT-ΔC30 (Fig. 3). Both types of trajectories clustered in the same regions, and no segregation into ER subdomains was observable at the resolved length scales. This finding—on the one hand—disfavors freely diffusing protein fragments as the origin of the high mobility fraction. On the other hand, it calls for further experiments to identify the origin of the fast and the slow mobility subfraction. Interestingly, when analyzing all eYFP-SERT-ΔC30 trajectories we found that 80% of the molecules showed diffusion confined to domains of 230-nm radius (see Fig. S2). This size is clearly smaller than the lateral extensions of the visible ER regions observed in Fig. 3. The finding indicates domain formation at the ER membrane; domains are averaged out in Fig. 3 due to the long recording times. Note that free diffusion was observed for mGFP-SERT-wt at the plasma membrane (5).Open in a separate windowFigure 3Ripley’s K function analysis of the different mobility fractions in the ER. For the cell presented in Fig. 2, the first position of every slow (D < 1 μm²/s; red) and fast (D > 1 μm²/s; blue) trajectory was plotted in panel A. Contour lines indicate regions of ER attachment to the plasma membrane. In panel B, the point-correlation function L(r)−r is plotted for the slow (red) and fast (blue) fraction. Furthermore, the correlation between fast versus slow is plotted (green). All three curves show a peak at ∼450 nm, which agrees with the extensions of the ER attachment zones.In conclusion, we have shown that single-molecule tracking is feasible for constituents of the ER membrane. We found a surprising diffusion behavior of SERT resulting in the following:

• 1.A slow fraction showing mobility reminiscent of protein diffusion in the plasma membrane, likely reflecting SERT diffusing in protein-crowded regions of the ER membrane; and
• 2.A fast fraction showing 25-fold faster diffusion kinetics.

This likely represents diffusion in altered ER membrane environments, possibly of different lipid or protein composition. Given the fact that synthesis of virtually all membrane proteins and most lipids proceeds at the ER membrane, ER heterogeneity at the nanoscale due to the continuous synthesis activity and selection for correct folding appears highly plausible.     

3D-SIM Super-resolution of FtsZ and Its Membrane Tethers in Escherichia coli Cells

FtsZ, a bacterial homolog of eukaryotic tubulin, assembles into the Z ring required for cytokinesis. In Escherichia coli, FtsZ interacts directly with FtsA and ZipA, which tether the Z ring to the membrane. We used three-dimensional structured illumination microscopy to compare the localization patterns of FtsZ, FtsA, and ZipA at high resolution in Escherichia coli cells. We found that FtsZ localizes in patches within a ring structure, similar to the pattern observed in other species, and discovered that FtsA and ZipA mostly colocalize in similar patches. Finally, we observed similar punctate and short polymeric structures of FtsZ distributed throughout the cell after Z rings were disassembled, either as a consequence of normal cytokinesis or upon induction of an endogenous cell division inhibitor.The assembly of the bacterial tubulin FtsZ has been well studied in vitro, but the fine structure of the cytokinetic Z ring it forms in vivo is not well defined. Super-resolution microscopy methods including photoactivated localization microscopy (PALM) and three-dimensional-structured illumination microscopy (3D-SIM) have recently provided a more detailed view of Z-ring structures. Two-dimensional PALM showed that Z rings in Escherichia coli are likely composed of loosely-bundled dynamic protofilaments (1,2). Three-dimensional PALM studies of Caulobacter crescentus initially showed that Z rings were comprised of loosely bundled protofilaments forming a continuous but dynamic ring (1–3). However, a more recent high-throughput study showed that the Z rings of this bacterium are patchy or discontinuous (4), similar to Z rings of Bacillus subtilis and Staphylococcus aureus using 3D-SIM (5). Strauss et al. (5) also demonstrated that the patches in B. subtilis Z rings are highly dynamic.Assembly of the Z ring is modulated by several proteins that interact directly with FtsZ and enhance assembly or disassembly (6). For example, FtsA and ZipA promote ring assembly in E. coli by tethering it to the cytoplasmic membrane (7,8). SulA is an inhibitor of FtsZ assembly, induced only after DNA damage, which sequesters monomers of FtsZ to prevent its assembly into a Z ring (9). Our initial goals were to visualize Z rings in E. coli using 3D-SIM, and then examine whether any FtsZ polymeric structures remain after SulA induction. We also asked whether FtsA and ZipA localized in patchy patterns similar to those of FtsZ.We used a DeltaVision OMX V4 Blaze microscope (Applied Precision, GE Healthcare, Issaquah, WA) to view the high-resolution localization patterns of FtsZ in E. coli cells producing FtsZ-GFP (Fig. 1). Three-dimensional views were reconstructed using softWoRx software (Applied Precision). To rule out GFP artifacts, we also visualized native FtsZ from a wild-type strain (WM1074) by immunofluorescence (IF).Open in a separate windowFigure 1Localization of FtsZ in E. coli. (A) Cell with a Z ring labeled with FtsZ-GFP. (B) Rotated view of Z ring in panel A. (C) Cell with a Z ring labeled with DyLight 550 (Thermo Fisher Scientific, Waltham, MA). (D) Rotated view of Z ring in panel C. (B1 and D1) Three-dimensional surface intensity plots of Z rings in panels B and D, respectively. (E) A dividing cell producing FtsZ-GFP. The cell outline is shown in the schematic. (Asterisk) Focus of FtsZ localization; (open dashed ovals) filamentous structures of FtsZ. Three-dimensional surface intensity plots were created using the software ImageJ (19). Scale bars, 1 μm.Both FtsZ-GFP (Fig. 1, A, B, and B1) and IF staining for FtsZ (Fig. 1, C, D, and D1) consistently localized to patches around the ring circumference, similar to the B. subtilis and C. crescentus FtsZ patterns (4,5). Analysis of fluorescence intensities (see Fig. S1, A and B, in the Supporting Material) revealed that the majority of Z rings contain one or more gaps in which intensity decreases to background levels (82% for FtsZ-GFP and 69% for IF). Most rings had 3–5 areas of lower intensity, but only a small percentage of these areas had fluorescence below background intensity (34% for FtsZ-GFP and 21% for IF), indicating that the majority of areas with lower intensity contain at least some FtsZ.To elucidate how FtsZ transitions from a disassembled ring to a new ring, we imaged a few dividing daughter cells before they were able to form new Z rings (Fig. 1 E). Previous conventional microscopy had revealed dynamic FtsZ helical structures (10), but the resolution had been insufficient to see further details. Here, FtsZ visualized in dividing cells by 3D-SIM localized throughout as a mixture of patches and randomly-oriented short filaments (asterisk and dashed oval in Fig. 1, respectively). These structures may represent oligomeric precursors of Z ring assembly.To visualize FtsZ after Z-ring disassembly another way, we overproduced SulA, a protein that blocks FtsZ assembly. We examined E. coli cells producing FtsZ-GFP after induction of sulA expression from a pBAD33-sulA plasmid (pWM1736) with 0.2% arabinose. After 30 min of sulA induction, Z rings remained intact in most cells (Fig. 2 A and data not shown). The proportion of cellular FtsZ-GFP in the ring before and after induction of sulA was consistent with previous data (data not shown) (1,11).Open in a separate windowFigure 2Localization of FtsZ after overproduction of SulA. (A) Cell producing FtsZ-GFP after 0.2% arabinose induction of SulA for 30 min. (B) After 45 min. (B1) Magnified cell shown in panel B. (C) Cell producing native FtsZ labeled with AlexaFluor 488 (Life Technologies, Carlsbad, CA) 30 min after induction; (D) 45 min after induction. (D1) Magnified cell shown in panel D. Scale bars, 1 μm. (Asterisk) Focus of FtsZ localization; (open dashed ovals) filamentous structures of FtsZ.Notably, after 45 min of sulA induction, Z rings were gone (Fig. 2, B and B1), replaced by numerous patches and randomly-oriented short filaments (asterisk and dashed ovals in Fig. 2), similar to those observed in a dividing cell. FtsZ normally rapidly recycles from free monomers to ring-bound polymers (11), but a critical concentration of SulA reduces the pool of available FtsZ monomers, resulting in breakdown of the Z ring (9). The observed FtsZ-GFP patches and filaments are likely FtsZ polymers that disassemble before they can organize into a ring.We confirmed this result by overproducing SulA in wild-type cells and detecting FtsZ localization by IF (Fig. 2, C, D, and D1). The overall fluorescence patterns in cells producing FtsZ-GFP versus cells producing only native FtsZ were similar (Fig. 2, B1 and D1), although we observed fewer filaments with IF, perhaps because FtsZ-GFP confers slight resistance to SulA, or because the increased amount of FtsZ in FtsZ-GFP producing cells might titrate the SulA more effectively.Additionally, we wanted to observe the localization patterns of the membrane tethers FtsA and ZipA. Inasmuch as both proteins bind to the same C-terminal conserved tail of FtsZ (12–14), they would be expected to colocalize with the circumferential FtsZ patches in the Z ring. We visualized FtsA using protein fusions to mCherry and GFP (data not shown) as well as IF using a wild-type strain (WM1074) (Fig. 3 A). We found that the patchy ring pattern of FtsA localization was similar to the FtsZ pattern. ZipA also displayed a similar patchy localization in WM1074 by IF (Fig. 3 B).Open in a separate windowFigure 3Localization of FtsA (A) and ZipA (B) by IF using AlexaFluor 488. (C) FtsA-GFP ring. (D) Same cell shown in panel C with ZipA labeled with DyLight 550. (C1 and D1) Three-dimensional surface intensity plots of FtsA ring from panel C or ZipA ring from panel D, respectively. (E) Merged image of FtsA (green) and ZipA (red) from the ring shown in panels C and D. (F) Intensity plot of FtsA (green) and ZipA (red) of ring shown in panel E. The plot represents intensity across a line drawn counterclockwise from the top of the ring around the circumference, then into its lumen. Red/green intensity plot and three-dimensional surface intensity plots were created using the software ImageJ (19). Scale bar, 1 μm.To determine whether FtsA and ZipA colocalized to these patches, we used a strain producing FtsA-GFP (WM4679) for IF staining of ZipA using a red secondary antibody. FtsA-GFP (Fig. 3 C) and ZipA (Fig. 3 D) had similar patterns of fluorescence, although the three-dimensional intensity profiles (Fig. 3, C1 and D1) reveal slight differences in intensity that are also visible in a merged image (Fig. 3 E). Quantitation of fluorescence intensities around the circumference of the rings revealed that FtsA and ZipA colocalized almost completely in approximately half of the rings analyzed (Fig. 3 F, and see Fig. S2 A), whereas in the other rings there were significant differences in localization in one or more areas (see Fig. S2 B). FtsA and ZipA bind to the same C-terminal peptide of FtsZ and may compete for binding. Cooperative self-assembly of FtsA or ZipA might result in large-scale differential localization visible by 3D-SIM.In conclusion, our 3D-SIM analysis shows that the patchy localization of FtsZ is conserved in E. coli and suggests that it may be widespread among bacteria. After disassembly of the Z ring either in dividing cells or by excess levels of the cell division inhibitor SulA, FtsZ persisted as patches and short filamentous structures. This is consistent with a highly dynamic population of FtsZ monomers and oligomers outside the ring, originally observed as mobile helices in E. coli by conventional fluorescence microscopy (10) and by photoactivation single-molecule tracking (15). FtsA and ZipA, which bind to the same segment of FtsZ and tether it to the cytoplasmic membrane, usually display a similar localization pattern to FtsZ and each other, although in addition to the differences we detect by 3D-SIM, there are also likely differences that are beyond its ∼100-nm resolution limit in the X,Y plane.As proposed previously (16), gaps between FtsZ patches may be needed to accommodate a switch from a sparse Z ring to a more condensed ring, which would provide force to drive ring constriction (17). If this model is correct, the gaps should close upon ring constriction, although this may be beyond the resolution of 3D-SIM in constricted rings. Another role for patches could be to force molecular crowding of low-abundance septum synthesis proteins such as FtsI, which depend on FtsZ/FtsA/ZipA for their recruitment, into a few mobile supercomplexes.How are FtsZ polymers organized within the Z-ring patches? Recent polarized fluorescence data suggest that FtsZ polymers are oriented both axially and circumferentially within the Z ring in E. coli (18). The seemingly random orientation of the non-ring FtsZ polymeric structures we observe here supports the idea that there is no strong constraint requiring FtsZ oligomers to follow a circumferential path around the cell cylinder. The patches of FtsZ in the unperturbed E. coli Z ring likely represent randomly oriented clusters of FtsZ filaments that are associated with ZipA, FtsA, and essential septum synthesis proteins. New super-resolution microscopy methods should continue to shed light on the in vivo organization of these protein assemblies.     

Cell biology in development: Cell division and the maintenance of epithelial order

Epithelia are polarized layers of adherent cells that are the building blocks for organ and appendage structures throughout animals. To preserve tissue architecture and barrier function during both homeostasis and rapid growth, individual epithelial cells divide in a highly constrained manner. Building on decades of research focused on single cells, recent work is probing the mechanisms by which the dynamic process of mitosis is reconciled with the global maintenance of epithelial order during development. These studies reveal how symmetrically dividing cells both exploit and conform to tissue organization to orient their mitotic spindles during division and establish new adhesive junctions during cytokinesis.The association of large numbers of cells in tightly organized epithelial layers is a unique and defining feature of Metazoa. Although classical studies of development once labeled distinct embryonic regions as territories, fields, layers, placodes, and primordia, we now know many of these structures to be primarily constructed from epithelial sheets. Epithelial structure and function are critically dependent on cell polarization, which is coupled to the targeted assembly of adhesive junctions along the apicolateral membranes of adjacent cells (Tepass et al., 2001; Cavey and Lecuit, 2009). In brief, the plasma membrane of epithelial cells is polarized into apical and basolateral domains, each enriched with distinct lipid and protein components (Fig. 1; Rodriguez-Boulan et al., 2005; St Johnston and Ahringer, 2010). At the molecular level, E-cadherins are the major class of adhesion proteins that establish cell–cell connections through homophilic interaction across cell membranes (Takeichi, 1991, 2011; Halbleib and Nelson, 2006; Harris and Tepass, 2010). Whereas E-cadherin is apically enriched in invertebrate epithelia, it is localized along the lateral domain of vertebrate epithelial cells. In both cases, E-cadherin interacts with cytoplasmic actin filaments via the catenin class of adaptor proteins, thus coupling intercellular adhesive contacts to the cytoskeleton (Cavey and Lecuit, 2009; Harris and Tepass, 2010; Gomez et al., 2011). Within this framework, the maintenance of both polarity and cell–cell adhesion are essential for epithelial barrier function and tissue architecture during growth and morphogenesis (Papusheva and Heisenberg, 2010; Guillot and Lecuit, 2013b).Open in a separate windowFigure 1.Architectural implications of orthogonal and planar spindle orientations during epithelial cell division. (A) Programmed orthogonal orientation of the mitotic spindle can promote epithelial stratification, although the remodeling of adhesion and polarity complexes during this process remains an important area for further study. (B) Planar spindle orientation is coordinated with the overall cell polarity machinery and thus facilitates conservation of monolayer organization during rapid cell proliferation.During development, epithelia expand by the combined effects of cell growth (increase in cell size) and cell division (increase in cell numbers). Division events are typically oriented either parallel or orthogonal to the plane of the layer and less frequently at oblique angles (Gillies and Cabernard, 2011). When cells divide orthogonally (perpendicular to the plane of the epithelium), the two daughters will be at least initially nonequivalent with respect to position within the cell layer (Fig. 1 A). Under normal conditions, such programmed orthogonal divisions can be used to effect asymmetric segregation of cell fates or to establish distinct cell types, such as in the developing cortex (Fietz et al., 2010; Hansen et al., 2010) or during morphogenesis of stratified epithelia (Lechler and Fuchs, 2005; Williams et al., 2011). Conversely, when cells divide parallel to the plane of the epithelium (planar orientation; Fig. 1 B), both daughter cells are equivalent with respect to mother cell polarity and tightly integrated in the growing monolayer (Morin and Bellaïche, 2011).During planar division, epithelial cells typically round up, constrict in the middle to form the cytokinetic furrow, and divide symmetrically with respect to the apicobasal axis to produce two equal daughter cells. These daughters construct new cell–cell junctions at their nascent interface, thus integrating into the monolayer (Fig. 2, A–G). Although the intricate relationship between cell polarity and cell division has been explored for many years in the context of asymmetric cell division (Rhyu and Knoblich, 1995; Siller and Doe, 2009; Williams and Fuchs, 2013), recent studies have also begun to explore how epithelia maintain their morphology, integrity, and barrier function during continuous rounds of planar cell division and junction assembly. In this review, we highlight recent findings that provide new insights into the problem of symmetric planar cell division in diverse polarized epithelia, with a focus on two crucial mitotic events: (1) the orientation of cell division and (2) the formation of new cell junctions.Open in a separate windowFigure 2.Progression of planar cell division in an epithelial monolayer. Apical cross section (xy, top row) and longitudinal (xz, bottom row) view of a dividing cell (red). (A) At the level of apical junctions, cells are packed in a polygonal cell arrangement during interphase. (B) In prophase, the dividing nucleus begins to translocate apically as the cell rounds up and maintains a thin basal projection enriched with nonmuscle myosin II and actin (light blue). Notably, this type of nuclear migration is typically observed in pseudostratified columnar epithelia and does not occur in cuboidal and squamous epithelial tissues. (C) Localized molecular landmarks (apical complexes marked as gray bars on cell sides) direct orientation of the mitotic spindle to the plane of the epithelium (arrows). (D) Within the plane of the cell layer, the spindle can be further oriented (arrows) in response to molecular cues, global tissue tension, and local cell geometry. (E and F) After chromosome segregation during anaphase, the cell constricts in the middle and cleaves orthogonal to the plane of the monolayer. (G) After cytokinesis, daughter nuclei move basally and daughter cells form new junctions at their nascent interface (white) while elongating along the apicobasal axis.

Mitotic spindle position and orientation in epithelial cells

Planar orientation of epithelial cell division requires coordinated interaction between the cell polarization machinery and the mitotic spindle itself (Morin and Bellaïche, 2011). In animal cells, the spindle is organized by two symmetrically positioned poles or centrosomes, which nucleate three forms of microtubules (Tanaka, 2010): kinetochore microtubules that attach to the chromosomes, polar microtubules that overlap in an antiparallel fashion over the midplane, and astral microtubules that extend to the cell cortex, which is the actin-rich layer beneath the cell membrane (Lancaster and Baum, 2014). Work in Drosophila melanogaster and vertebrates reveals that at least three factors influence the orientation of this spindle machinery with respect to polarized epithelial architecture: cytoskeletal forces, localized cortical cues, and tissue tension.

Cytoskeletal forces position mitotic nuclei near the apical cell membrane.

In columnar and pseudostratified epithelia where cells elongate along their apicobasal axes, mitotic events are typically restricted to the apical domain of the epithelium (corresponding to the apical membrane of each cell; Fig. 2, C–F). How does the mitotic nucleus achieve the correct apical position? In Drosophila wing discs and zebrafish neuroepithelia, mitotic nuclei and the bulk of the cell cytoplasm are driven apically by actomyosin-dependent cortical contractility at prophase entry (Norden et al., 2009; Leung et al., 2011; Meyer et al., 2011). These events are fundamentally similar to mitotic cell rounding in tissue culture cells (Kunda and Baum, 2009; Lancaster et al., 2013; Lancaster and Baum, 2014). In many epithelia, as the cell rounds up and the nucleus translocates apically, a thin actin-rich projection maintains contact with the basal lamina (Fig. 2, B and C). It remains poorly understood how this structure behaves during cleavage and whether this basal process plays any role in the correct reintegration of the postmitotic daughter cells into the monolayer. Although actomyosin may be the primary driver of apical rounding in many cases, evidence also supports a role for microtubule-based mechanisms in the positioning of premitotic nuclei. In chicken neural tube and mouse cerebral cortex, nuclei migrate apically on microtubules before actomyosin-dependent rounding (Spear and Erickson, 2012a). Centrosomes provide directionality to the microtubules on which the nucleus migrates and organize the spindle once the mitotic chromatin reaches the apical domain (Peyre et al., 2011; Spear and Erickson, 2012a; Nakajima et al., 2013). Collectively, current evidence suggests that both actomyosin- and microtubule-dependent forces conspire to effect mitotic nuclear translocation in a highly context- and species-specific manner. One possibility is that the varying physical dimensions of epithelial cells require varying mechanisms for apical nuclear translocation. For example, highly elongated radial glial cells require active transport of the nucleus on microtubules before mitotic rounding, whereas cortical actomyosin contractility may be sufficient in less elongated cells (Spear and Erickson, 2012b). A major outstanding problem is how cortical contractility triggers cell rounding that is polarized along the apicobasal axis of the cell. Whereas centrosomes function as an apical landmark for nuclei moving on microtubules, it remains unclear what provides the directionality for the basal-to-apical actomyosin contraction. One hypothesis is that certain proteins can restrict the localization of nonmuscle myosin II at the basal domain of epithelial cells. The microcephaly protein Asp interacts with myosin II and regulates its polarized localization along the apicobasal axis in the fly optic lobe neuroepithelium. In asp mutant flies, myosin II is enriched apically instead of basally. Many dividing nuclei fail to reach the apical domain and are thus broadly distributed along the apicobasal axis of the epithelium, leading to a disorganized tissue (Rujano et al., 2013). Interestingly, Asp also interacts with microtubules, associates with spindle poles, and is essential for positioning the spindle in fly and vertebrate epithelia (Saunders et al., 1997; do Carmo Avides and Glover, 1999; Wakefield et al., 2001; Fish et al., 2006). Elucidating the function of proteins such as Asp at the interface of microtubules and actomyosin will be essential to our understanding of how the cytoskeleton drives apical mitotic rounding.

Localized molecular landmarks direct planar spindle orientation.

In most animal cells, the mitotic spindle is anchored to the cell cortex by astral microtubules (Fig. 2, C–E; Théry and Bornens, 2006). Translocation of the dynein–dynactin motor toward the astral microtubule minus ends provides a pulling force on centrosomes and is essential for spindle orientation and pole separation during cell division (Dujardin and Vallee, 2002; Kotak et al., 2012). Molecular cues embedded in the cortex can thus determine spindle orientation by anchoring the dynein–dynactin complex in restricted domains. In cultured MDCK and chick neuroepithelia cells, the Gαi–LGN–nuclear mitotic apparatus (NuMA) complex serves this function (Busson et al., 1998; Hao et al., 2010; Zheng et al., 2010; Peyre et al., 2011). Knockdown or mislocalization of these factors leads to spindle orientation defects that ultimately lead to removal of cell progenitors from the monolayer (Peyre et al., 2011). LGN (Pins in Drosophila) localizes to the lateral cell cortex by binding to the membrane-bound Gαi and enforces spindle orientation by recruiting NuMA (Mud in Drosophila), which binds directly to the dynein–dynactin motor. In certain epithelia, including MDCK cells and Drosophila wing discs, LGN is excluded from the apical domain by atypical PKC (aPKC) phosphorylation, thus restricting it at the lateral cell cortex (Konno et al., 2008; Hao et al., 2010; Zheng et al., 2010; Guilgur et al., 2012). In chick neuroepithelia, however, LGN is restricted at the lateral cortex independently of aPKC, suggesting that other cues control its localization (Morin et al., 2007; Peyre et al., 2011). In the mouse embryonic neocortex, the actin–membrane linkers ERM (ezrin/radixin/moesin) promote the association of LGN with NuMA (Machicoane et al., 2014), indicating that organized cortical actin is critical for correct LGN localization.Cell–cell junctions have been implicated in planar cell division in mammalian epithelia, suggesting a possible direct link between the polarity apparatus and the spindle machinery (Reinsch and Karsenti, 1994; den Elzen et al., 2009). Interfering with E-cadherin function or reducing E-cadherin levels abolishes junctional localization of APC (adenomatous polyposis coli), a microtubule-interacting protein that is required for planar spindle orientation and chromosome alignment (Green et al., 2005; den Elzen et al., 2009). However, spindle orientation may not directly depend on E-cadherin or adherens junctions (AJs) in all cases. In Drosophila follicle cells and imaginal discs as well as Xenopus laevis embryonic epithelia, mitotic spindles exhibit planar orientation but do not align with the AJs (Woolner and Papalopulu, 2012; Bergstralh et al., 2013; Nakajima et al., 2013). Moreover, disruption of AJs in Drosophila follicle cells does not affect spindle position (Bergstralh et al., 2013).In Drosophila wing discs, the spindle poles localize in close proximity to septate junctions, which are positioned immediately basal to AJs (Nakajima et al., 2013). Septate junctions are enriched with many proteins, including the neoplastic tumor suppressors SCRIB (Scribbled) and DLG1 (Discs large 1; Bilder and Perrimon, 2000; Bilder et al., 2000). In asymmetrically dividing cells, such as Drosophila sensory organ precursors and neuroblasts, DLG1 interacts with LGN at the cortex and is required for proper spindle orientation (Bellaïche et al., 2001; Siegrist and Doe, 2005; Johnston et al., 2009). Recent findings indicate that DLG1 is also essential for planar spindle orientation in the symmetric division of epithelial cells. In wing discs, knockdown of scrib or dlg1 leads to randomized spindle orientations. scrib knockdown wing discs exhibit diffuse DLG1 localization but no obvious apicobasal polarity defect, suggesting that epithelial disorganization could be a consequence of aberrant spindle orientation (Nakajima et al., 2013). However, it is not clear whether the septate junctions themselves are important. In Drosophila follicle epithelial cells where septate junctions do not form until relatively late in development (Oshima and Fehon, 2011), DLG1 is localized at the lateral cell cortex and is essential for planar spindle orientation (Bergstralh et al., 2013). Interestingly, dlg1 mutant follicle cells display misoriented divisions yet normal epithelial polarity and tissue organization. In this case, planar spindle orientation appears to be independent of junctions per se but still depends on a DLG1–LGN–NuMA complex, similar to asymmetrically dividing cells (Bergstralh et al., 2013).

Global stress and local cell geometry influence mitotic spindle orientation within the plane of the epithelium.

During planar divisions, the mitotic spindle aligns to the plane of the epithelium (xz; Fig. 2 C) and also within the plane of the cell layer (xy; Fig. 2 D). Studies in gastrulating zebrafish embryos revealed a role for the Wnt–Frizzled–planar cell polarity signaling pathway in orienting cell divisions (Concha and Adams, 1998; Gong et al., 2004). Similarly, the atypical cadherins Fat and Dachsous are involved in orienting cell divisions in the Drosophila wing and in developing mouse kidneys (Baena-López et al., 2005; Saburi et al., 2008). Although both of these pathways have been reviewed elsewhere (Morin and Bellaïche, 2011), recent studies also point to at least two other mechanisms that may independently influence spindle orientation within the plane of the monolayer: (1) global tissue stress and (2) local epithelial cell geometry.Epithelial cell shape and spindle orientation are modulated by global stress that accumulates during tissue growth. In Drosophila wing discs, cells in the center of the wing blade primordium proliferate at a faster rate than in the periphery. Consequently, cells in the periphery are mechanically stretched, and cells in the center are compressed. As a result of stretching, peripheral cells localize myosin II at their cortex and align their mitotic spindle with the stretch axis (LeGoff et al., 2013; Mao et al., 2013). Similarly, epithelial cells of the enveloping cell layer in gastrulating zebrafish embryos elongate and orient their spindle along the direction of tension generated by spreading during epiboly (Campinho et al., 2013). It is unclear whether myosin II directly conveys cell tension to the mitotic apparatus, and it will be necessary to dissect whether cell elongation alone or additional mechanosensing pathways signal cell tension to the mitotic spindle. Keratinocytes from the mammalian epidermis reorient their mitotic spindle in response to mechanical stretch in a NuMA-dependent manner. The mitotic spindle aligns with the cortical NuMA-localized crescent upon stretch and fails to orient when NuMA levels are reduced (Seldin et al., 2013). In summary, global tension generated by growth and cell spreading impact division orientation, suggesting that shape changes in proximity to dividing cells may also lead to a similar effect.Although variations certainly exist, the apical surfaces of proliferating epithelia tend to feature a consistent percentage of hexagonal, pentagonal, heptagonal, and octagonal cell shapes (Gibson et al., 2006; Farhadifar et al., 2007; Aegerter-Wilmsen et al., 2010). In Drosophila imaginal discs, these local patterns of cell packing may systematically influence spindle orientation, as mitotic cells are biased toward cleaving their common interfaces with subhexagonal neighbors (less than six sides) and avoid cleaving their interfaces with superhexagonal neighbors (more than six sides; Gibson et al., 2011). Although the mechanisms underlying the effect of local cell geometry remain elusive, cell packing influences mitotic cell shape and the distribution of adhesive cues, both of which could, in turn, bias spindle orientation. Indeed, dividing cells maintain contacts with their neighbors, which can influence the cell cortex and direct spindle orientation (Goldstein, 1995; Wang et al., 1997). The distribution of adhesions between epithelial cells may also alter the position or action of cortical force generators that interact with spindle microtubules in the mitotic cell. In support of this idea, when single cells are placed on micropatterned substrates, they orient their spindle relative to the geometry of their adhesion pattern and not their cell shape (Théry et al., 2005, 2007). Alternatively, neighbors of different polygonal shapes could stretch the mitotic cell, thus imposing a bias on its long axis. Indeed, sea urchin embryos orient their spindles to divide their longest axis (Hertwig, 1884) and can even sense complex cell geometries to orient their spindles accordingly (Minc et al., 2011). Still, precisely how the interphase morphology of epithelial cells might impinge on mitotic spindle orientation remains an open question.

Genesis of nascent junctions during epithelial cell division

After spindle orientation, the essential processes of cytokinesis and abscission are driven by the assembly and contraction of an actomyosin ring positioned in the cleavage plane (Fededa and Gerlich, 2012). In epithelia, ring contraction accompanied by membrane invagination ultimately gives rise to a new junctional interface between nascent daughter cells. Precisely how this new interface forms remains poorly understood. Recent studies in Drosophila epithelia reveal that, during cytokinesis, (a) E-cadherin levels are reduced at the interface between the cleavage furrow of dividing cells and their neighbors (Fig. 3), and (b) neighbor tension and midbody position guide establishment of new AJs in context with local epithelial geometry (Fig. 4).Open in a separate windowFigure 3.Cytokinetic membrane dynamics in epithelial cells. (A) Cytokinesis of a dividing epithelial cell (yellow) presents several unique structural considerations not addressed by the analysis of single cells. Recent studies (Founounou et al., 2013; Guillot and Lecuit, 2013a; Herszterg et al., 2013, 2014) report a local reduction of E-cadherin levels in proximity to the contractile ring in the dividing cell and its neighbor (red). How cytokinesis is resolved from there may vary in a context-dependent manner. (B) In Drosophila embryos, ring contraction leads to E-cadherin disengagement, and a gap forms between the mitotic cell and its neighbor (Guillot and Lecuit, 2013a). (C) In the Drosophila pupal notum, the contractile ring pulls the neighbor cell plasma membrane into the cleavage furrow, perhaps enabled by uncoupling of the membrane and the cortex in the neighbor (Herszterg et al., 2013, 2014).Open in a separate windowFigure 4.New AJ formation in dividing epithelial cells. Apical cross section (xy, top row) and longitudinal (xz, bottom row) view of a dividing epithelial cell (red). (A) Opposing forces (black vertical arrows) develop between the contractile ring in the dividing cell and the two neighboring cells (orange) in proximity to the cleavage furrow. E-cadherin clusters are reduced at the furrow/neighbor interface. (B) Myosin II and tension build up in the neighboring cell, causing the nascent daughter cells to juxtapose their plasma membranes at the presumptive site of junction assembly (black horizontal arrows). (C) Arp2/3 and Rac1 drive actin polymerization at the daughter cell interface around the midbody, stabilizing the nascent junction as the neighboring cell membrane withdraws. (D) The new junction is complete and of suitable length in context with the local epithelial geometry.

Mitotic cells remodel their adhesion junctions during cytokinesis.

Two kinds of forces are at work during cytokinesis: an active force in the dividing cell caused by ring contraction and a reactive force in contacting neighbors caused by their resistance to pulling to maintain their shape (Fig. 3 and Fig. 4 A; Founounou et al., 2013; Guillot and Lecuit, 2013a; Herszterg et al., 2013). Recent results indicate that these opposing forces can lead to a transient and partial reduction of cell adhesion after mitotic exit. In Drosophila epithelia, E-cadherin levels are reduced at the interface between the cleavage furrow of the dividing cell and its neighbors (Fig. 3, B and C; Founounou et al., 2013; Guillot and Lecuit, 2013a; Herszterg et al., 2013; Morais-de-Sá and Sunkel, 2013). Specifically in embryonic epithelia, the local reduction of E-cadherin facilitates membrane separation, and a gap appears between the dividing cell and its neighbors (Fig. 3 B; Guillot and Lecuit, 2013a). In the dorsal thorax, in contrast, the neighbor cell plasma membrane detaches from the cortex and is drawn into the cleavage furrow (Fig. 3 C; Herszterg et al., 2013, 2014). What triggers E-cadherin modulation in cells after mitotic exit? The loss of overall cell polarity is one possible mechanism. During mitosis in Drosophila, follicular epithelial cells lose cortical enrichment of some apical polarity proteins (aPKC, Crumbs, and Bazooka/Par3; Bergstralh et al., 2013; Morais-de-Sá and Sunkel, 2013), and embryonic cells lose localization of lethal giant larvae, a basolateral cortical protein (Huang et al., 2009). Contrasting with these observations, however, MDCK cells and Drosophila embryonic and dorsal thorax epithelial cells appear to maintain apicobasal polarity as they divide (Reinsch and Karsenti, 1994; Founounou et al., 2013; Guillot and Lecuit, 2013a; Herszterg et al., 2013). Furthermore, E-cadherin reduction is limited to the furrow/neighbor interface and is not observed in other areas of cell contact. Therefore, an alternative mechanism that explains local E-cadherin modulation is mechanical tension that arises precisely at the area between the contractile ring and the neighboring cell membrane (Founounou et al., 2013; Guillot and Lecuit, 2013a).Does E-cadherin modulation serve a functional role in mitotic cells? In Drosophila embryonic and dorsal thorax epithelia, E-cadherin decrease leads to a local adhesion disengagement proposed to facilitate the formation of new AJs between daughter cells (Founounou et al., 2013; Guillot and Lecuit, 2013a). It has been previously reported that cells maintain their AJs throughout division. For example, intercellular junctions are maintained in dividing cells of human colonic mucosal crypt cells and basal keratinocytes (Baker and Garrod, 1993). Similarly, mitotic MDCK cultured cells maintain tight junctions apically and E-cadherin basolaterally (Reinsch and Karsenti, 1994). The E-cadherin loss in certain Drosophila epithelia may be either a tissue-specific phenomenon or a highly dynamic process only observable with the temporal resolution of live-cell imaging. Moreover, dividing cells in the Drosophila dorsal thorax show decreased levels of E-cadherin yet maintain their cohesiveness (Herszterg et al., 2013). Interestingly, E-cadherin is internalized in mitotic MDCK cells (Bauer et al., 1998). It will therefore be important to investigate whether loss of E-cadherin leads to adhesion disengagement in other epithelial tissues and whether tension alone or in combination with biochemical pathways is responsible for E-cadherin modulation.

Epithelial neighbors exert tension on daughter cell membranes to facilitate new AJ formation.

How new junctional contacts form during mitosis is a poorly understood problem at the heart of epithelial cell biology. In Drosophila, new membrane interfaces between nascent daughter cells initially show only a weak level of E-cadherin clusters (Guillot and Lecuit, 2013a; Herszterg et al., 2013). Subsequently, the daughter cells assemble their AJs de novo. How is the length of these new junctions determined with respect to cell geometry? Recent evidence indicates that AJ length is a function of local cell packing within the epithelium. In dividing cells of the Drosophila dorsal thorax, the contractile ring triggers tension and accumulation of myosin II in neighbors at the furrow/neighbor interface (Fig. 4 B; Founounou et al., 2013; Herszterg et al., 2013). Myosin II in the neighboring cells in turn contracts and creates tension at the furrowing membrane of the nascent daughter cells, keeping them tightly pressed against each other (Fig. 4, B and C). This local membrane juxtaposition facilitates AJ formation. To allow expansion of the daughter cell interface and maintain AJ length, branched actin polymerization via Rac1 and Arp2/3 is oriented to the midbody, which serves as a positional landmark for new AJs (Fig. 4 C; Herszterg et al., 2013). The midbody is a narrow intercellular bridge that remains after the contracted cytokinetic ring has driven membrane invagination, and it recruits the abscission factors that will eventually separate the daughter cells (Fededa and Gerlich, 2012). Interestingly, the midbody is positioned apically as a result of the presence of AJs. In Drosophila follicular epithelia, the midbody also provides cues for the formation of the apical daughter cell interface, suggesting that it plays a role in both AJ and epithelial cell polarity establishment and maintenance in dividing epithelial cells (Morais-de-Sá and Sunkel, 2013). Thus, examples from Drosophila epithelia show that cohesion between dividing cells and their neighbors together with the apically positioned midbody provides a spatial template and polarized positional cue for de novo AJ assembly (Herszterg et al., 2013; Morais-de-Sá and Sunkel, 2013). Further work on other epithelial tissues may provide alternative mechanisms of junction biogenesis.

Growth and order in the epithelium: Thinking outside the cell

During development, epithelial monolayers have the remarkable capacity to maintain specialized morphologies and barrier functions during rapid cell proliferation. Mitotic cells remain adherent to their neighbors throughout cell division. Cell cohesion enables local geometry and global tissue tension to instruct mitotic cells where to position their cleavage plane and how to assemble their junctions. However, local tension may also lead to a transient disengagement of dividing cells from their neighbors after mitotic exit. How is global and local tension conveyed to protein complexes in mitotic cells so that different outcomes take place? Moreover, it is unclear whether and how tissue tension instructs synchronously dividing epithelial cells how to divide and reestablish their junctions after division. Clearly, this is a fundamental problem for the maintenance of epithelial order and may be linked to the origin of epithelial cancers, in which cells undergo rapid proliferation but fail to remain integrated into the monolayer.The selected studies discussed here hint at the remarkable level of coordination that occurs during epithelial cell division, recasting mitosis as a truly multicellular process. Looking ahead, understanding the interface between cells, proteins, and mechanical forces that each operate on different scales will require creative multidisciplinary approaches in diverse organismal systems. Indeed, epithelial organization is widespread in nature and is encountered among even the most basal animals, including sponges and cnidarians as well as the fruiting body of the nonmetazoan social amoeba Dictyostelium discoideum (Wood, 1959; Ereskovsky et al., 2009; Houliston et al., 2010; Dickinson et al., 2011; Meyer et al., 2011). Combined, future interdisciplinary studies and a fresh look at diverse animal models should yield new insight into epithelial cell division for many years to come.