Cavitation Resistance in Seedless Vascular Plants: The Structure and Function of Interconduit Pit Membranes

Plant water transport occurs through interconnected xylem conduits that are separated by partially digested regions in the cell wall known as pit membranes. These structures have a dual function. Their porous construction facilitates water movement between conduits while limiting the spread of air that may enter the conduits and render them dysfunctional during a drought. Pit membranes have been well studied in woody plants, but very little is known about their function in more ancient lineages such as seedless vascular plants. Here, we examine the relationships between conduit air seeding, pit hydraulic resistance, and pit anatomy in 10 species of ferns (pteridophytes) and two lycophytes. Air seeding pressures ranged from 0.8 ± 0.15 MPa (mean ± sd) in the hydric fern Athyrium filix-femina to 4.9 ± 0.94 MPa in Psilotum nudum, an epiphytic species. Notably, a positive correlation was found between conduit pit area and vulnerability to air seeding, suggesting that the rare-pit hypothesis explains air seeding in early-diverging lineages much as it does in many angiosperms. Pit area resistance was variable but averaged 54.6 MPa s m⁻¹ across all surveyed pteridophytes. End walls contributed 52% to the overall transport resistance, similar to the 56% in angiosperm vessels and 64% in conifer tracheids. Taken together, our data imply that, irrespective of phylogenetic placement, selection acted on transport efficiency in seedless vascular plants and woody plants in equal measure by compensating for shorter conduits in tracheid-bearing plants with more permeable pit membranes.Water transport in plants occurs under tension, which renders the xylem susceptible to air entry. This air seeding may lead to the rupture of water columns (cavitation) such that the air expands within conduits to create air-vapor embolisms that block further transport. (Zimmermann and Tyree, 2002). Excessive embolism such as that which occurs during a drought may jeopardize leaf hydration and lead to stomatal closure, overheating, wilting, and possibly death of the plant (Hubbard et al., 2001; Choat et al., 2012; Schymanski et al., 2013). Consequently, strong selection pressure resulted in compartmentalized and redundant plant vascular networks that are adapted to a species habitat water availability by way of life history strategy (i.e. phenology) or resistance to air seeding (Tyree et al., 1994; Mencuccini et al., 2010; Brodersen et al., 2012). The spread of drought-induced embolism is limited primarily by pit membranes, which are permeable, mesh-like regions in the primary cell wall that connect two adjacent conduits. The construction of the pit membrane is such that water easily moves across the membrane between conduits, but because of the small membrane pore size and the presence of a surface coating on the membrane (Pesacreta et al., 2005; Lee et al., 2012), the spread of air and gas bubbles is restricted up to a certain pressure threshold known as the air-seeding pressure (ASP). When xylem sap tension exceeds the air-seeding threshold, air can be aspirated from an air-filled conduit into a functional water-filled conduit through perhaps a large, preexisting pore or one that is created by tension-induced membrane stress (Rockwell et al., 2014). Air seeding leads to cavitation and embolism formation, with emboli potentially propagating throughout the xylem network (Tyree and Sperry, 1988; Brodersen et al., 2013). So, on the one hand, pit membranes are critical to controlling the spread of air throughout the vascular network, while on the other hand, they must facilitate the efficient flow of water between conduits (Choat et al., 2008; Domec et al., 2008; Pittermann et al., 2010; Schulte, 2012). Much is known about such hydraulic tradeoffs in the pit membranes of woody plants, but comparatively little data exist on seedless vascular plants such as ferns and lycophytes. Given that seedless vascular plants may bridge the evolutionary transition from bryophytes to woody plants, the lack of functional data on pit membrane structure in early-derived tracheophytes is a major gap in our understanding of the evolution of plant water transport.In woody plants, pit membranes fall into one of two categories: the torus-margo type found in most gymnosperms and the homogenous pit membrane characteristic of angiosperms (Choat et al., 2008; Choat and Pittermann, 2009). In conifers, water moves from one tracheid to another through the margo region of the membrane, with the torus sealing the pit aperture should one conduit become embolized. Air seeding occurs when water potential in the functional conduit drops low enough to dislodge the torus from its sealing position, letting air pass through the pit aperture into the water-filled tracheid (Domec et al., 2006; Delzon et al., 2010; Pittermann et al., 2010; Schulte, 2012; but see Jansen et al., 2012). Across north-temperate conifer species, larger pit apertures correlate with lower pit resistance to water flow (r_pit; MPa s m⁻¹), but it is the ratio of torus-aperture overlap that sets a species cavitation resistance (Pittermann et al., 2006, 2010; Domec et al., 2008; Hacke and Jansen, 2009). A similar though mechanistically different tradeoff exists in angiosperm pit membranes. Here, air seeding reflects a probabilistic relationship between membrane porosity and the total area of pit membranes present in the vessel walls. Specifically, the likelihood of air aspirating into a functional conduit is determined by the combination of xylem water potential and the diameter of the largest pore and/or the weakest zone in the cellulose matrix in the vessel’s array of pit membranes (Wheeler et al., 2005; Hacke et al., 2006; Christman et al., 2009; Rockwell et al., 2014). As it has come to be known, the rare-pit hypothesis suggests that the infrequent, large-diameter leaky pore giving rise to that rare pit reflects some combination of pit membrane traits such as variation in conduit membrane area (large or small), membrane properties (tight or porous), and hydrogel membrane chemistry (Hargrave et al., 1994; Choat et al., 2003; Wheeler et al., 2005; Hacke et al., 2006; Christman et al., 2009; Lee et al., 2012; Plavcová et al., 2013; Rockwell et al., 2014). The maximum pore size is critical because, per the Young-Laplace law, the larger the radius of curvature, the lower the air-water pressure difference under which the contained meniscus will fail (Jarbeau et al., 1995; Choat et al., 2003; Jansen et al., 2009). Consequently, angiosperms adapted to drier habitats may exhibit thicker, denser, smaller, and less abundant pit membranes than plants occupying regions with higher water availability (Wheeler et al., 2005; Hacke et al., 2007; Jansen et al., 2009; Lens et al., 2011; Scholz et al., 2013). However, despite these qualitative observations, there is no evidence that increased cavitation resistance arrives at the cost of higher r_pit. Indeed, the bulk of the data suggest that prevailing pit membrane porosity is decoupled from the presence of the single largest pore that allows air seeding to occur (Choat et al., 2003; Wheeler et al., 2005 Hacke et al., 2006, 2007).As water moves from one conduit to another, pit membranes offer considerable hydraulic resistance throughout the xylem network. On average, r_pit contributes 64% and 56% to transport resistance in conifers and angiosperms, respectively (Wheeler et al., 2005; Pittermann et al., 2006; Sperry et al., 2006). In conifers, the average r_pit is estimated at 6 ± 1 MPa s m⁻¹, almost 60 times lower than the 336 ± 81 MPa s m⁻¹ computed for angiosperms (Wheeler et al., 2005; Hacke et al., 2006; Sperry et al., 2006). Presumably, the high porosity of conifer pits compensates for the higher transport resistance offered by a vascular system composed of narrow, short, single-celled conduits (Pittermann et al., 2005; Sperry et al., 2006).Transport in seedless vascular plants presents an interesting conundrum because, with the exception of a handful of species, their primary xylem is composed of tracheids, the walls of which are occupied by homogenous pit membranes (Gibson et al., 1985; Carlquist and Schneider, 2001, 2007; but see Morrow and Dute, 1998, for torus-margo membranes in Botrychium spp.). At first pass, this combination of traits appears hydraulically maladaptive, but several studies have shown that ferns can exhibit transport capacities that are on par with more recently evolved plants (Wheeler et al., 2005; Watkins et al., 2010; Pittermann et al., 2011, 2013; Brodersen et al., 2012). Certainly, several taxa possess large-diameter, highly overlapping conduits, some even have vessels such as Pteridium aquilinum and many species have high conduit density, all of which could contribute to increased hydraulic efficiency (Wheeler et al., 2005; Pittermann et al., 2011, 2013). But how do the pit membranes of seedless vascular plants compare? Scanning electron micrographs of fern and lycopod xylem conduits suggest that they are thin, diaphanous, and susceptible to damage during specimen preparation (Carlquist and Schneider 2001, 2007). Consistent with such observations, two estimates of r_pit imply that r_pit in ferns may be significantly lower than in angiosperms; Wheeler et al. (2005) calculated r_pit in the fern Pteridium aquilinum at 31 MPa s m⁻¹, while Schulte et al. (1987) estimated r_pit at 1.99 MPa s m⁻¹ in the basal fern Psilotum nudum. The closest structural analogy to seedless vascular plant tracheids can be found in the secondary xylem of the early-derived vesselless angiosperms, in which tracheids possess homogenous pit membranes with r_pit values that at 16 MPa s m⁻¹ are marginally higher than those of conifers (Hacke et al., 2007). Given that xylem in seedless vascular plants is functionally similar to that in vesselless angiosperms, we expected convergent r_pit values in these two groups despite their phylogenetic distance. We tested this hypothesis, as well as the intrinsic cavitation resistance of conduits in seedless vascular plants, by scrutinizing the pit membranes of ferns and fern allies using the anatomical and experimental approaches applied previously to woody taxa. In particular, we focused on the relationship between pit membrane traits and cavitation resistance at the level of the individual conduit.     

Plasma membrane poration by opioid neuropeptides: a possible mechanism of pathological signal transduction

Neuropeptides induce signal transduction across the plasma membrane by acting through cell-surface receptors. The dynorphins, endogenous ligands for opioid receptors, are an exception; they also produce non-receptor-mediated effects causing pain and neurodegeneration. To understand non-receptor mechanism(s), we examined interactions of dynorphins with plasma membrane. Using fluorescence correlation spectroscopy and patch-clamp electrophysiology, we demonstrate that dynorphins accumulate in the membrane and induce a continuum of transient increases in ionic conductance. This phenomenon is consistent with stochastic formation of giant (~2.7 nm estimated diameter) unstructured non-ion-selective membrane pores. The potency of dynorphins to porate the plasma membrane correlates with their pathogenic effects in cellular and animal models. Membrane poration by dynorphins may represent a mechanism of pathological signal transduction. Persistent neuronal excitation by this mechanism may lead to profound neuropathological alterations, including neurodegeneration and cell death.Neuropeptides are the largest and most diverse family of neurotransmitters. They are released from axon terminals and dendrites, diffuse to pre- or postsynaptic neuronal structures and activate membrane G-protein-coupled receptors. Prodynorphin (PDYN)-derived opioid peptides including dynorphin A (Dyn A), dynorphin B (Dyn B) and big dynorphin (Big Dyn) consisting of Dyn A and Dyn B are endogenous ligands for the κ-opioid receptor. Acting through this receptor, dynorphins regulate processing of pain and emotions, memory acquisition and modulate reward induced by addictive substances.^{1, 2, 3, 4} Furthermore, dynorphins may produce robust cellular and behavioral effects that are not mediated through opioid receptors.^{5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29} As evident from pharmacological, morphological, genetic and human neuropathological studies, these effects are generally pathological, including cell death, neurodegeneration, neurological dysfunctions and chronic pain. Big Dyn is the most active pathogenic peptide, which is about 10- to 100-fold more potent than Dyn A, whereas Dyn B does not produce non-opioid effects.^{16, 17, 22, 25} Big Dyn enhances activity of acid-sensing ion channel-1a (ASIC1a) and potentiates ASIC1a-mediated cell death in nanomolar concentrations^{30, 31} and, when administered intrathecally, induces characteristic nociceptive behavior at femtomolar doses.^{17, 22} Inhibition of endogenous Big Dyn degradation results in pathological pain, whereas prodynorphin (Pdyn) knockout mice do not maintain neuropathic pain.^{22, 32} Big Dyn differs from its constituents Dyn A and Dyn B in its unique pattern of non-opioid memory-enhancing, locomotor- and anxiolytic-like effects.²⁵Pathological role of dynorphins is emphasized by the identification of PDYN missense mutations that cause profound neurodegeneration in the human brain underlying the SCA23 (spinocerebellar ataxia type 23), a very rare dominantly inherited neurodegenerative disorder.^{27, 33} Most PDYN mutations are located in the Big Dyn domain, demonstrating its critical role in neurodegeneration. PDYN mutations result in marked elevation in dynorphin levels and increase in its pathogenic non-opioid activity.^{27, 34} Dominant-negative pathogenic effects of dynorphins are not produced through opioid receptors.ASIC1a, glutamate NMDA (N-methyl-d-aspartate) and AMPA (α-amino-3-hydroxy-5-methyl-4-isoxazolepropionic acid)/kainate ion channels, and melanocortin and bradykinin B2 receptors have all been implicated as non-opioid dynorphin targets.^{5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 30, 31, 35, 36} Multiplicity of these targets and their association with the cellular membrane suggest that their activation is a secondary event triggered by a primary interaction of dynorphins with the membrane. Dynorphins are among the most basic neuropeptides.^{37, 38} The basic nature is also a general property of anti-microbial peptides (AMPs) and amyloid peptides that act by inducing membrane perturbations, altering membrane curvature and causing pore formation that disrupts membrane-associated processes including ion fluxes across the membrane.³⁹ The similarity between dynorphins and these two peptide groups in overall charge and size suggests a similar mode of their interactions with membranes.In this study, we dissect the interactions of dynorphins with the cell membrane, the primary event in their non-receptor actions. Using fluorescence imaging, correlation spectroscopy and patch-clamp techniques, we demonstrate that dynorphin peptides accumulate in the plasma membrane in live cells and cause a profound transient increase in cell membrane conductance. Membrane poration by endogenous neuropeptides may represent a novel mechanism of signal transduction in the brain. This mechanism may underlie effects of dynorphins under pathological conditions including chronic pain and tissue injury.     

An Optimal Frequency in Ca2+ Oscillations for Stomatal Closure Is an Emergent Property of Ion Transport in Guard Cells

Oscillations in cytosolic-free Ca²⁺ concentration ([Ca2+]_i) have been proposed to encode information that controls stomatal closure. [Ca2+]_i oscillations with a period near 10 min were previously shown to be optimal for stomatal closure in Arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana), but the studies offered no insight into their origins or mechanisms of encoding to validate a role in signaling. We have used a proven systems modeling platform to investigate these [Ca2+]_i oscillations and analyze their origins in guard cell homeostasis and membrane transport. The model faithfully reproduced differences in stomatal closure as a function of oscillation frequency with an optimum period near 10 min under standard conditions. Analysis showed that this optimum was one of a range of frequencies that accelerated closure, each arising from a balance of transport and the prevailing ion gradients across the plasma membrane and tonoplast. These interactions emerge from the experimentally derived kinetics encoded in the model for each of the relevant transporters, without the need of any additional signaling component. The resulting frequencies are of sufficient duration to permit substantial changes in [Ca2+]_i and, with the accompanying oscillations in voltage, drive the K⁺ and anion efflux for stomatal closure. Thus, the frequency optima arise from emergent interactions of transport across the membrane system of the guard cell. Rather than encoding information for ion flux, these oscillations are a by-product of the transport activities that determine stomatal aperture.Stomata in the leaf epidermis are the main pathway both for CO₂ entry for photosynthesis and for foliar water loss by transpiration. Guard cells surround the stomatal pore and regulate the aperture, balancing the often conflicting demands for CO₂ and water conservation. Guard cells open and close the pore by expanding and contracting through the uptake and loss, respectively, of osmotic solutes, notably of K⁺, Cl⁻, and malate²⁻ (Mal²⁻; Pandey et al., 2007; Kim et al., 2010; Roelfsema and Hedrich, 2010; Lawson and Blatt, 2014). These transport processes comprise the final effectors of a regulatory network that coordinates transport across the plasma membrane and tonoplast, and maintains the homeostasis of the guard cell. A number of well-defined signals—including light, CO₂, drought and the water stress hormone abscisic acid (ABA)—act on this network, altering transport, solute content, turgor and cell volume, and ultimately stomatal aperture.Much research has focused on stomatal closure, underscoring both Ca²⁺-independent and Ca²⁺-dependent signaling. Of the latter, elevated cytosolic-free Ca²⁺ concentration ([Ca2+]_i) inactivates inward-rectifying K⁺ channels (I_K,in) to prevent K⁺ uptake and activates Cl⁻ (anion) channels (I_Cl) at the plasma membrane to depolarize the membrane and engage K⁺ efflux through outward-rectifying K⁺ channels (I_K,out; Keller et al., 1989; Blatt et al., 1990; Thiel et al., 1992; Lemtiri-Chlieh and MacRobbie, 1994). ABA, and most likely CO₂ (Kim et al., 2010), elevate [Ca2+]_i by facilitating Ca²⁺ entry at the plasma membrane to trigger Ca²⁺ release from endomembrane stores, a process often described as Ca²⁺-induced Ca²⁺ release (Grabov and Blatt, 1998, 1999). The hormone promotes Ca²⁺ influx by activating Ca²⁺ channels (I_Ca) at the plasma membrane, even in isolated membrane patches (Hamilton et al., 2000, 2001), which is linked to reactive oxygen species (Kwak et al., 2003; Wang et al., 2013). In parallel, cADP-ribose and nitric oxide promote endomembrane Ca²⁺ release and [Ca2+]_i elevation (Leckie et al., 1998; Neill et al., 2002; Garcia-Mata et al., 2003; Blatt et al., 2007). Best estimates indicate that endomembrane release accounts for more than 95% of the Ca²⁺ entering the cytosol to raise [Ca2+]_i (Chen et al., 2012; Wang et al., 2012).One feature of stomatal response to ABA, and indeed to a range of stimuli both hormonal as well as external, is its capacity for oscillations both in membrane voltage and [Ca2+]_i. Guard cell [Ca2+]_i at rest is typically around 100 to 200 nm, as it is in virtually all living cells. In response to ABA, [Ca2+]_i can rise above 1 μm—and locally, most likely above 10 μm—often in cyclic transients of tens of seconds to several minutes’ duration in association with oscillations in voltage and stomatal closure (Gradmann et al., 1993; McAinsh et al., 1995; Webb et al., 1996; Grabov and Blatt, 1998, 1999; Staxen et al., 1999; Allen et al., 2001). In principle, cycling in voltage and [Ca2+]_i arises as closure is accelerated with a controlled release of K⁺, Cl⁻, and Mal²⁻ from the guard cell and is subject to extracellular ion concentrations (Gradmann et al., 1993; Chen et al., 2012). However, it has been proposed that these, and similar oscillations in a variety of plant cell models, serve as physiological signals in their own right (McAinsh et al., 1995; Ehrhardt et al., 1996; Taylor et al., 1996). In support of such a signaling role, experiments designed to impose [Ca2+]_i (and voltage) oscillations in guard cells have yielded an optimal frequency for closure with a period near 10 min (Allen et al., 2001). Nonetheless, the studies offer no mechanistic explanation for this optimum that could validate a causal role in signaling, and none has been forthcoming since. Here we address questions of how such optimal frequencies in [Ca2+]_i oscillation arise and their relevance for stomatal closure, using quantitative systems analysis of guard cell transport and homeostasis. Our findings indicate that oscillations in voltage and [Ca2+]_i, and their optima associated with stomatal closure, are most simply explained as emerging from the interactions between ion transporters that drive stomatal closure. Thus, we conclude that these oscillations do not control, but are a by-product of the transport that determines stomatal aperture.     

Responses of Arabidopsis and Wheat to Rising CO2 Depend on Nitrogen Source and Nighttime CO2 Levels

A major contributor to the global carbon cycle is plant respiration. Elevated atmospheric CO₂ concentrations may either accelerate or decelerate plant respiration for reasons that have been uncertain. We recently established that elevated CO₂ during the daytime decreases plant mitochondrial respiration in the light and protein concentration because CO₂ slows the daytime conversion of nitrate (NO₃−) into protein. This derives in part from the inhibitory effect of CO₂ on photorespiration and the dependence of shoot NO₃− assimilation on photorespiration. Elevated CO₂ also inhibits the translocation of nitrite into the chloroplast, a response that influences shoot NO₃− assimilation during both day and night. Here, we exposed Arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana) and wheat (Triticum aestivum) plants to daytime or nighttime elevated CO₂ and supplied them with NO₃− or ammonium as a sole nitrogen (N) source. Six independent measures (plant biomass, shoot NO₃−, shoot organic N, ¹⁵N isotope fractionation, ¹⁵NO₃⁻ assimilation, and the ratio of shoot CO₂ evolution to O₂ consumption) indicated that elevated CO₂ at night slowed NO₃− assimilation and thus decreased dark respiration in the plants reliant on NO₃−. These results provide a straightforward explanation for the diverse responses of plants to elevated CO₂ at night and suggest that soil N source will have an increasing influence on the capacity of plants to mitigate human greenhouse gas emissions.The CO₂ concentration in Earth’s atmosphere has increased from about 270 to 400 µmol mol^–1 since 1800, and may double before the end of the century (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, 2013). Plant responses to such increases are highly variable, but plant nitrogen (N) concentrations generally decline under elevated CO₂ (Cotrufo et al., 1998; Long et al., 2004). One explanation for this decline is that CO₂ inhibits nitrate (NO₃−) assimilation into protein in the shoots of C₃ plants during the daytime (Bloom et al., 2002, 2010, 2012, 2014; Cheng et al., 2012; Pleijel and Uddling, 2012; Myers et al., 2014; Easlon et al., 2015; Pleijel and Högy, 2015). This derives in part from the inhibitory effect of CO₂ on photorespiration (Foyer et al., 2009) and the dependence of shoot NO₃− assimilation on photorespiration (Rachmilevitch et al., 2004; Bloom, 2015).A key factor in global carbon budgets is plant respiration at night (Amthor, 1991; Farrar and Williams, 1991; Drake et al., 1999; Leakey et al., 2009). Nighttime elevated CO₂ may inhibit, have a negligible effect on, or stimulate dark respiration, depending on the plant species (Bunce, 2001, 2003; Wang and Curtis, 2002), plant development stage (Wang et al., 2001; Li et al., 2013), experimental approach (Griffin et al., 1999; Baker et al., 2000; Hamilton et al., 2001; Bruhn et al., 2002; Jahnke and Krewitt, 2002; Bunce, 2004), and total N supply (Markelz et al., 2014). The current study is, to our knowledge, the first to examine the influence of N source, NO₃− versus ammonium (NH₄+), on plant dark respiration at elevated CO₂ during the night.Plant organic N compounds account for less than 5% of the total dry weight of a plant, but conversion of NO₃− into organic N expends about 25% of the total energy in shoots (Bloom et al., 1989) and roots (Bloom et al., 1992). During the day, photorespiration supplies a portion of the energy (Rachmilevitch et al., 2004; Foyer et al., 2009), but at night, this energetic cost is borne entirely by the respiration of C substrates (Amthor, 1995) and may divert a substantial amount of reductant from the mitochondrial electron transport chain (Cousins and Bloom, 2004). The relative importance of NO₃− assimilation at night versus the day, however, is still a matter of intense debate (Nunes-Nesi et al., 2010). Here, we estimated NO₃− assimilation using several independent methods and show in Arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana) and wheat (Triticum aestivum), two diverse C₃ plants, that NO₃− assimilation at night can be substantial, and that elevated CO₂ at night inhibits this process.     

The nuclease activity of DNA2 promotes exonuclease 1–independent mismatch repair

The DNA mismatch repair (MMR) system is a major DNA repair system that corrects DNA replication errors. In eukaryotes, the MMR system functions via mechanisms both dependent on and independent of exonuclease 1 (EXO1), an enzyme that has multiple roles in DNA metabolism. Although the mechanism of EXO1-dependent MMR is well understood, less is known about EXO1-independent MMR. Here, we provide genetic and biochemical evidence that the DNA2 nuclease/helicase has a role in EXO1-independent MMR. Biochemical reactions reconstituted with purified human proteins demonstrated that the nuclease activity of DNA2 promotes an EXO1-independent MMR reaction via a mismatch excision-independent mechanism that involves DNA polymerase δ. We show that DNA polymerase ε is not able to replace DNA polymerase δ in the DNA2-promoted MMR reaction. Unlike its nuclease activity, the helicase activity of DNA2 is dispensable for the ability of the protein to enhance the MMR reaction. Further examination established that DNA2 acts in the EXO1-independent MMR reaction by increasing the strand-displacement activity of DNA polymerase δ. These data reveal a mechanism for EXO1-independent mismatch repair.

The mismatch repair (MMR) system has been conserved from bacteria to humans (1, 2). It promotes genome stability by suppressing spontaneous and DNA damage-induced mutations (1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11). The key function of the MMR system is the correction of DNA replication errors that escape the proofreading activities of replicative DNA polymerases (1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12). In addition, the MMR system removes mismatches formed during strand exchange in homologous recombination, suppresses homeologous recombination, initiates apoptosis in response to irreparable DNA damage caused by several anticancer drugs, and contributes to instability of triplet repeats and alternative DNA structures (1, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18). The principal components of the eukaryotic MMR system are MutSα (MSH2-MSH6 heterodimer), MutLα (MLH1-PMS2 heterodimer in humans and Mlh1-Pms1 heterodimer in yeast), MutSβ (MSH2-MSH3 heterodimer), proliferating cell nuclear antigen (PCNA), replication factor C (RFC), exonuclease 1 (EXO1), RPA, and DNA polymerase δ (Pol δ). Loss-of-function mutations in the MSH2, MLH1, MSH6, and PMS2 genes of the human MMR system cause Lynch and Turcot syndromes, and hypermethylation of the MLH1 promoter is responsible for ∼15% of sporadic cancers in several organs (19, 20). MMR deficiency leads to cancer initiation and progression via a multistage process that involves the inactivation of tumor suppressor genes and action of oncogenes (21).MMR occurs behind the replication fork (22, 23) and is a major determinant of the replication fidelity (24). The correction of DNA replication errors by the MMR system increases the replication fidelity by ∼100 fold (25). Strand breaks in leading and lagging strands as well as ribonucleotides in leading strands serve as signals that direct the eukaryotic MMR system to remove DNA replication errors (26, 27, 28, 29, 30). MMR is more efficient on the lagging than the leading strand (31). The substrates for MMR are all six base–base mismatches and 1 to 13-nt insertion/deletion loops (25, 32, 33, 34). Eukaryotic MMR commences with recognition of the mismatch by MutSα or MutSβ (32, 34, 35, 36). MutSα is the primary mismatch-recognition factor that recognizes both base–base mismatches and small insertion/deletion loops whereas MutSβ recognizes small insertion/deletion loops (32, 34, 35, 36, 37). After recognizing the mismatch, MutSα or MutSβ cooperates with RFC-loaded PCNA to activate MutLα endonuclease (38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43). The activated MutLα endonuclease incises the discontinuous daughter strand 5′ and 3′ to the mismatch. A 5'' strand break formed by MutLα endonuclease is utilized by EXO1 to enter the DNA and excise a discontinuous strand portion encompassing the mismatch in a 5''→3′ excision reaction stimulated by MutSα/MutSβ (38, 44, 45). The generated gap is filled in by the Pol δ holoenzyme, and the nick is ligated by a DNA ligase (44, 46, 47). DNA polymerase ε (Pol ε) can substitute for Pol δ in the EXO1-dependent MMR reaction, but its activity in this reaction is much lower than that of Pol δ (48). Although MutLα endonuclease is essential for MMR in vivo, 5′ nick-dependent MMR reactions reconstituted in the presence of EXO1 are MutLα-independent (44, 47, 49).EXO1 deficiency in humans does not seem to cause significant cancer predisposition (19). Nevertheless, it is known that Exo1^-/- mice are susceptible to the development of lymphomas (50). Genetic studies in yeast and mice demonstrated that EXO1 inactivation causes only a modest defect in MMR (50, 51, 52, 53). In agreement with these genetic studies, a defined human EXO1-independent MMR reaction that depends on the strand-displacement DNA synthesis activity of Pol δ holoenzyme to remove the mismatch was reconstituted (54). Furthermore, an EXO1-independent MMR reaction that occurred in a mammalian cell extract system without the formation of a gapped excision intermediate was observed (54). Together, these findings implicated the strand-displacement activity of Pol δ holoenzyme in EXO1-independent MMR.In this study, we investigated DNA2 in the context of MMR. DNA2 is an essential multifunctional protein that has nuclease, ATPase, and 5''→3′ helicase activities (55, 56, 57). Previous research ascertained that DNA2 removes long flaps during Okazaki fragment maturation (58, 59, 60), participates in the resection step of double-strand break repair (61, 62, 63), initiates the replication checkpoint (64), and suppresses the expansions of GAA repeats (65). We have found in vivo and in vitro evidence that DNA2 promotes EXO1-independent MMR. Our data have indicated that the nuclease activity of DNA2 enhances the strand-displacement activity of Pol δ holoenzyme in an EXO1-independent MMR reaction.     

Wettability,Polarity, and Water Absorption of Holm Oak Leaves: Effect of Leaf Side and Age

Plant trichomes play important protective functions and may have a major influence on leaf surface wettability. With the aim of gaining insight into trichome structure, composition, and function in relation to water-plant surface interactions, we analyzed the adaxial and abaxial leaf surface of holm oak (Quercus ilex) as a model. By measuring the leaf water potential 24 h after the deposition of water drops onto abaxial and adaxial surfaces, evidence for water penetration through the upper leaf side was gained in young and mature leaves. The structure and chemical composition of the abaxial (always present) and adaxial (occurring only in young leaves) trichomes were analyzed by various microscopic and analytical procedures. The adaxial surfaces were wettable and had a high degree of water drop adhesion in contrast to the highly unwettable and water-repellent abaxial holm oak leaf sides. The surface free energy and solubility parameter decreased with leaf age, with higher values determined for the adaxial sides. All holm oak leaf trichomes were covered with a cuticle. The abaxial trichomes were composed of 8% soluble waxes, 49% cutin, and 43% polysaccharides. For the adaxial side, it is concluded that trichomes and the scars after trichome shedding contribute to water uptake, while the abaxial leaf side is highly hydrophobic due to its high degree of pubescence and different trichome structure, composition, and density. Results are interpreted in terms of water-plant surface interactions, plant surface physical chemistry, and plant ecophysiology.Plant surfaces have an important protecting function against multiple biotic and abiotic stress factors (Riederer, 2006). They may, for example, limit the attack of insects (Eigenbrode and Jetter, 2002) or pathogenic fungi (Gniwotta et al., 2005; Łaźniewska et al., 2012), avoid damage caused by high intensities of UV and visible radiation (Reicosky and Hanover, 1978; Karabourniotis and Bormann, 1999), help to regulate leaf temperature (Ehleringer and Björkman, 1978; Ripley et al., 1999), and chiefly prevent plant organs from dehydration (Riederer and Schreiber, 2001).The epidermis of plants has been found to have a major degree of physical and chemical variability and may often contain specialized cells such as trichomes or stomata (Roth-Nebelsick et al., 2009; Javelle et al., 2011). Most aerial organs are covered with an extracellular and generally lipid-rich layer named the cuticle, which is typically composed of waxes embedded in (intracuticular waxes) or deposited on (epicuticular waxes) a biopolymer matrix of cutin, forming a network of cross-esterified hydroxy C₁₆ and/or C₁₈ fatty acids, and/or cutan, with variable amounts of polysaccharides and phenolics (Domínguez et al., 2011; Yeats and Rose, 2013). Different nano- and/or microscale levels of plant surface sculpturing have been observed by scanning electron microscopy (SEM), generally in relation to the topography of epicuticular waxes, cuticular folds, and epidermal cells (Koch and Barthlott, 2009). Such surface features together with their chemical composition (Khayet and Fernández, 2012) may lead to a high degree of roughness and hydrophobicity (Koch and Barthlott, 2009; Konrad et al., 2012). The interactions of plant surfaces with water have been addressed in some investigations (Brewer et al., 1991; Brewer and Smith, 1997; Pandey and Nagar, 2003; Hanba et al., 2004; Dietz et al., 2007; Holder, 2007a, 2007b; Fernández et al., 2011, 2014; Roth-Nebelsick et al., 2012; Wen et al., 2012; Urrego-Pereira et al., 2013) and are a topic of growing interest for plant ecophysiology (Helliker and Griffiths, 2007; Aryal and Neuner, 2010; Limm and Dawson, 2010; Kim and Lee, 2011; Berry and Smith, 2012; Berry et al., 2013; Rosado and Holder, 2013; Helliker, 2014). On the other hand, the mechanisms of foliar uptake of water and solutes by plant surfaces are still not fully understood (Fernández and Eichert, 2009; Burkhardt and Hunsche, 2013), but they may play an important ecophysiological role (Limm et al., 2009; Johnstone and Dawson, 2010; Adamec, 2013; Berry et al., 2014).The importance of trichomes and pubescent layers on water drop-plant surface interactions and on the subsequent potential water uptake into the organs has been analyzed in some investigations (Fahn, 1986; Brewer et al., 1991; Grammatikopoulos and Manetas, 1994; Brewer and Smith, 1997; Pierce et al., 2001; Kenzo et al., 2008; Fernández et al., 2011, 2014; Burrows et al., 2013). Trichomes are unicellular or multicellular and glandular or nonglandular appendages, which originate from epidermal cells only and develop outwards on the surface of plant organs (Werker, 2000). Nonglandular trichomes are categorized according to their morphology and exhibit a major variability in size, morphology, and function. On the other hand, glandular trichomes are classified by the secretory materials they excrete, accumulate, or absorb (Johnson, 1975; Werker, 2000; Wagner et al., 2004). Trichomes can be often found in xeromorphic leaves and in young organs (Fahn, 1986; Karabourniotis et al., 1995). The occurrence of protecting leaf trichomes has been also reported for Mediterranean species such as holm oak (Quercus ilex; Karabourniotis et al., 1995, 1998; Morales et al., 2002; Karioti et al., 2011; Camarero et al., 2012). There is limited information about the nature of the surface of trichomes, but they are also covered with a cuticle similarly to other epidermal cell types (Fernández et al., 2011, 2014).In this study and using holm oak as a model, we assessed, for the first time, the leaf surface-water relations of the abaxial (always pubescent) versus the adaxial (only pubescent in developing leaves and for a few months) surface, including their capacity to absorb surface-deposited water drops. Based on membrane science methodologies (Fernández et al., 2011; Khayet and Fernández, 2012) and following a new integrative approach, the chemical, physical, and anatomical properties of holm oak leaf surfaces and trichomes were analyzed, with the aim of addressing the following questions. Are young and mature adaxial and abaxial leaf surfaces capable of absorbing water deposited as drops on to the surfaces? Are young and mature abaxial and adaxial leaf surfaces similar in relation to their wettability, hydrophobicity, polarity, work of adhesion (W_a) for water, solubility parameter (δ), and surface free energy (γ)? What is the physical and chemical nature of the adaxial versus the abaxial trichomes, chiefly in relation to young leaves?     

Calcineurin B-Like Protein-Interacting Protein Kinase CIPK21 Regulates Osmotic and Salt Stress Responses in Arabidopsis

The role of calcium-mediated signaling has been extensively studied in plant responses to abiotic stress signals. Calcineurin B-like proteins (CBLs) and CBL-interacting protein kinases (CIPKs) constitute a complex signaling network acting in diverse plant stress responses. Osmotic stress imposed by soil salinity and drought is a major abiotic stress that impedes plant growth and development and involves calcium-signaling processes. In this study, we report the functional analysis of CIPK21, an Arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana) CBL-interacting protein kinase, ubiquitously expressed in plant tissues and up-regulated under multiple abiotic stress conditions. The growth of a loss-of-function mutant of CIPK21, cipk21, was hypersensitive to high salt and osmotic stress conditions. The calcium sensors CBL2 and CBL3 were found to physically interact with CIPK21 and target this kinase to the tonoplast. Moreover, preferential localization of CIPK21 to the tonoplast was detected under salt stress condition when coexpressed with CBL2 or CBL3. These findings suggest that CIPK21 mediates responses to salt stress condition in Arabidopsis, at least in part, by regulating ion and water homeostasis across the vacuolar membranes.Drought and salinity cause osmotic stress in plants and severely affect crop productivity throughout the world. Plants respond to osmotic stress by changing a number of cellular processes (Xiong et al., 1999; Xiong and Zhu, 2002; Bartels and Sunkar, 2005; Boudsocq and Lauriére, 2005). Some of these changes include activation of stress-responsive genes, regulation of membrane transport at both plasma membrane (PM) and vacuolar membrane (tonoplast) to maintain water and ionic homeostasis, and metabolic changes to produce compatible osmolytes such as Pro (Stewart and Lee, 1974; Krasensky and Jonak, 2012). It has been well established that a specific calcium (Ca²⁺) signature is generated in response to a particular environmental stimulus (Trewavas and Malhó, 1998; Scrase-Field and Knight, 2003; Luan, 2009; Kudla et al., 2010). The Ca²⁺ changes are primarily perceived by several Ca²⁺ sensors such as calmodulin (Reddy, 2001; Luan et al., 2002), Ca²⁺-dependent protein kinases (Harper and Harmon, 2005), calcineurin B-like proteins (CBLs; Luan et al., 2002; Batistič and Kudla, 2004; Pandey, 2008; Luan, 2009; Sanyal et al., 2015), and other Ca²⁺-binding proteins (Reddy, 2001; Shao et al., 2008) to initiate various cellular responses.Plant CBL-type Ca²⁺ sensors interact with and activate CBL-interacting protein kinases (CIPKs) that phosphorylate downstream components to transduce Ca²⁺ signals (Liu et al., 2000; Luan et al., 2002; Batistič and Kudla, 2004; Luan, 2009). In several plant species, multiple members have been identified in the CBL and CIPK family (Luan et al., 2002; Kolukisaoglu et al., 2004; Pandey, 2008; Batistič and Kudla, 2009; Weinl and Kudla, 2009; Pandey et al., 2014). Involvement of specific CBL-CIPK pair to decode a particular type of signal entails the alternative and selective complex formation leading to stimulus-response coupling (D’Angelo et al., 2006; Batistič et al., 2010).Several CBL and CIPK family members have been implicated in plant responses to drought, salinity, and osmotic stress based on genetic analysis of Arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana) mutants (Zhu, 2002; Cheong et al., 2003, 2007; Kim et al., 2003; Pandey et al., 2004, 2008; D’Angelo et al., 2006; Qin et al., 2008; Tripathi et al., 2009; Held et al., 2011; Tang et al., 2012; Drerup et al., 2013; Eckert et al., 2014). A few CIPKs have also been functionally characterized by gain-of-function approach in crop plants such as rice (Oryza sativa), pea (Pisum sativum), and maize (Zea mays) and were found to be involved in osmotic stress responses (Mahajan et al., 2006; Xiang et al., 2007; Yang et al., 2008; Tripathi et al., 2009; Zhao et al., 2009; Cuéllar et al., 2010).In this report, we examined the role of the Arabidopsis CIPK21 gene in osmotic stress response by reverse genetic analysis. The loss-of-function mutant plants became hypersensitive to salt and mannitol stress conditions, suggesting that CIPK21 is involved in the regulation of osmotic stress response in Arabidopsis. These findings are further supported by an enhanced tonoplast targeting of the cytoplasmic CIPK21 through interaction with the vacuolar Ca²⁺ sensors CBL2 and CBL3 under salt stress condition.     

Uniform nomenclature for the mitochondrial contact site and cristae organizing system

The mitochondrial inner membrane contains a large protein complex that functions in inner membrane organization and formation of membrane contact sites. The complex was variably named the mitochondrial contact site complex, mitochondrial inner membrane organizing system, mitochondrial organizing structure, or Mitofilin/Fcj1 complex. To facilitate future studies, we propose to unify the nomenclature and term the complex “mitochondrial contact site and cristae organizing system” and its subunits Mic10 to Mic60.Mitochondria possess two membranes of different architecture and function (Palade, 1952; Hackenbrock, 1968). Both membranes work together for essential shared functions, such as protein import (Schatz, 1996; Neupert and Herrmann, 2007; Chacinska et al., 2009). The outer membrane harbors machinery that controls the shape of the organelle and is crucial for the communication of mitochondria with the rest of the cell. The inner membrane harbors the complexes of the respiratory chain, the F₁F_o-ATP synthase, numerous metabolite carriers, and enzymes of mitochondrial metabolism. It consists of two domains: the inner boundary membrane, which is adjacent to the outer membrane, and invaginations of different shape, termed cristae (Werner and Neupert, 1972; Frey and Mannella, 2000; Hoppins et al., 2007; Pellegrini and Scorrano, 2007; Zick et al., 2009; Davies et al., 2011). Tubular openings, termed crista junctions (Perkins et al., 1997), connect inner boundary membrane and cristae membranes (Fig. 1, A and B). Respiratory chain complexes and the F₁F_o-ATP synthase are preferentially located in the cristae membranes, whereas preprotein translocases are enriched in the inner boundary membrane (Vogel et al., 2006; Wurm and Jakobs, 2006; Davies et al., 2011). Contact sites between outer membrane and inner boundary membrane promote import of preproteins, metabolite channeling, lipid transport, and membrane dynamics (Frey and Mannella, 2000; Sesaki and Jensen, 2004; Hoppins et al., 2007, 2011; Neupert and Herrmann, 2007; Chacinska et al., 2009; Connerth et al., 2012; van der Laan et al., 2012).Open in a separate windowFigure 1.MICOS complex. (A) The MICOS complex (hypothetical model), previously also termed MINOS, MitOS, or Mitofilin/Fcj1 complex, is required for maintenance of the characteristic architecture of the mitochondrial inner membrane (IM) and forms contact sites with the outer membrane (OM). In budding yeast, six subunits of MICOS have been identified. All subunits are exposed to the intermembrane space (IMS), five are integral inner membrane proteins (Mic10, Mic12, Mic26, Mic27, and Mic60), and one is a peripheral inner membrane protein (Mic19). Mic26 is related to Mic27; however, mic26Δ yeast cells show considerably less severe defects of mitochondrial inner membrane architecture than mic27Δ cells (Harner et al., 2011; Hoppins et al., 2011; von der Malsburg et al., 2011). The MICOS complex of metazoa additionally contains Mic25, which is related to Mic19, yet subunits corresponding to Mic12 and Mic26 have not been identified so far. MICOS subunits that have been conserved in most organisms analyzed are indicated by bold boundary lines. (B, top) Wild-type architecture of the mitochondrial inner membrane with crista junctions and cristae. (bottom) This architecture is considerably altered in micos mutant mitochondria: most cristae membranes are detached from the inner boundary membrane and form internal membrane stacks. In some micos mutants (deficiency of mammalian Mic19 or Mic25), a loss of cristae membranes was observed (Darshi et al., 2011; An et al., 2012). Figure by M. Bohnert (Institute of Biochemistry and Molecular Biology, University of Freiburg, Freiburg, Germany).To understand the complex architecture of mitochondria, it will be crucial to identify the molecular machineries that control the interaction between mitochondrial outer and inner membranes and the characteristic organization of the inner membrane. A convergence of independent studies led to the identification of a large heterooligomeric protein complex of the mitochondrial inner membrane conserved from yeast to humans that plays crucial roles in the maintenance of crista junctions, inner membrane architecture, and formation of contact sites to the outer membrane (Fig. 1 A). Several names were used by different research groups to describe the complex, including mitochondrial contact site (MICOS) complex, mitochondrial inner membrane organizing system (MINOS), mitochondrial organizing structure (MitOS), Mitofilin complex, or Fcj1 (formation of crista junction protein 1) complex (Harner et al., 2011; Hoppins et al., 2011; von der Malsburg et al., 2011; Alkhaja et al., 2012). Mitofilin, also termed Fcj1, was the first component identified (Icho et al., 1994; Odgren et al., 1996; Gieffers et al., 1997; John et al., 2005) and was observed enriched at crista junctions (Rabl et al., 2009). Mutants of Mitofilin/Fcj1 as well as of other MICOS/MINOS/MitOS subunits show a strikingly altered inner membrane architecture. They lose crista junctions and contain large internal membrane stacks, the respiratory activity is reduced, and mitochondrial DNA nucleoids are altered (Fig. 1 B; John et al., 2005; Hess et al., 2009; Rabl et al., 2009; Mun et al., 2010; Harner et al., 2011; Head et al., 2011; Hoppins et al., 2011; von der Malsburg et al., 2011; Alkhaja et al., 2012; Itoh et al., 2013). It has been reported that the complex interacts with a variety of outer membrane proteins, such as channel proteins and components of the protein translocases and mitochondrial fusion machines, and defects impair the biogenesis of mitochondrial proteins (Xie et al., 2007; Darshi et al., 2011; Harner et al., 2011; Hoppins et al., 2011; von der Malsburg et al., 2011; Alkhaja et al., 2012; An et al., 2012; Bohnert et al., 2012; Körner et al., 2012; Ott et al., 2012; Zerbes et al., 2012; Jans et al., 2013; Weber et al., 2013). The MICOS/MINOS/MitOS/Mitofilin/Fcj1 complex thus plays crucial roles in mitochondrial architecture, dynamics, and biogenesis. However, communication of results in this rapidly developing field has been complicated by several different nomenclatures used for the complex as well as for its subunits (

Focus Issue on Calcium Signaling: Identification of Cyclic GMP-Activated Nonselective Ca2+-Permeable Cation Channels and Associated CNGC5 and CNGC6 Genes in Arabidopsis Guard Cells

Cytosolic Ca²⁺ in guard cells plays an important role in stomatal movement responses to environmental stimuli. These cytosolic Ca²⁺ increases result from Ca²⁺ influx through Ca²⁺-permeable channels in the plasma membrane and Ca²⁺ release from intracellular organelles in guard cells. However, the genes encoding defined plasma membrane Ca²⁺-permeable channel activity remain unknown in guard cells and, with some exceptions, largely unknown in higher plant cells. Here, we report the identification of two Arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana) cation channel genes, CNGC5 and CNGC6, that are highly expressed in guard cells. Cytosolic application of cyclic GMP (cGMP) and extracellularly applied membrane-permeable 8-Bromoguanosine 3′,5′-cyclic monophosphate-cGMP both activated hyperpolarization-induced inward-conducting currents in wild-type guard cells using Mg²⁺ as the main charge carrier. The cGMP-activated currents were strongly blocked by lanthanum and gadolinium and also conducted Ba²⁺, Ca²⁺, and Na⁺ ions. cngc5 cngc6 double mutant guard cells exhibited dramatically impaired cGMP-activated currents. In contrast, mutations in CNGC1, CNGC2, and CNGC20 did not disrupt these cGMP-activated currents. The yellow fluorescent protein-CNGC5 and yellow fluorescent protein-CNGC6 proteins localize in the cell periphery. Cyclic AMP activated modest inward currents in both wild-type and cngc5cngc6 mutant guard cells. Moreover, cngc5 cngc6 double mutant guard cells exhibited functional abscisic acid (ABA)-activated hyperpolarization-dependent Ca²⁺-permeable cation channel currents, intact ABA-induced stomatal closing responses, and whole-plant stomatal conductance responses to darkness and changes in CO₂ concentration. Furthermore, cGMP-activated currents remained intact in the growth controlled by abscisic acid2 and abscisic acid insensitive1 mutants. This research demonstrates that the CNGC5 and CNGC6 genes encode unique cGMP-activated nonselective Ca²⁺-permeable cation channels in the plasma membrane of Arabidopsis guard cells.Plants lose water via transpiration and take in CO₂ for photosynthesis through stomatal pores. Each stomatal pore is surrounded by two guard cells, and stomatal movements are driven by the change of turgor pressure in guard cells. The intracellular second messenger Ca²⁺ functions in guard cell signal transduction (Schroeder and Hagiwara, 1989; McAinsh et al., 1990; Webb et al., 1996; Grabov and Blatt, 1998; Allen et al., 1999; MacRobbie, 2000; Mori et al., 2006; Young et al., 2006; Siegel et al., 2009; Chen et al., 2010; Hubbard et al., 2012). Plasma membrane ion channel activity and gene expression in guard cells are finely regulated by the intracellular free calcium concentration ([Ca2+]_cyt; Schroeder and Hagiwara, 1989; Webb et al., 2001; Allen et al., 2002; Siegel et al., 2009; Kim et al., 2010; Stange et al., 2010). Ca²⁺-dependent protein kinases (CPKs) function as targets of the cytosolic Ca²⁺ signal, and several members of the CPK family have been shown to function in stimulus-induced stomatal closing, including the Arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana) CPK3, CPK4, CPK6, CPK10, and CPK11 proteins (Mori et al., 2006; Zhu et al., 2007; Zou et al., 2010; Brandt et al., 2012; Hubbard et al., 2012). Further research found that several CPKs could activate the S-type anion channel SLAC1 in Xenopus laevis oocytes, including CPK21, CPK23, and CPK6 (Geiger et al., 2010; Brandt et al., 2012). At the same time, the Ca²⁺-independent protein kinase Open Stomata1 mediates stomatal closing and activates the S-type anion channel SLAC1 (Mustilli et al., 2002; Yoshida et al., 2002; Geiger et al., 2009; Lee et al., 2009; Xue et al., 2011), indicating that both Ca²⁺-dependent and Ca²⁺-independent pathways function in guard cells.Multiple essential factors of guard cell abscisic acid (ABA) signal transduction function in the regulation of Ca²⁺-permeable channels and [Ca2+]_cyt elevations, including Abscisic Acid Insensitive1 (ABI1), ABI2, Enhanced Response to Abscisic Acid1 (ERA1), the NADPH oxidases AtrbohD and AtrbohF, the Guard Cell Hydrogen Peroxide-Resistant1 (GHR1) receptor kinase, as well as the Ca²⁺-activated CPK6 protein kinase (Pei et al., 1998; Allen et al., 1999, 2002; Kwak et al., 2003; Miao et al., 2006; Mori et al., 2006; Hua et al., 2012). [Ca2+]_cyt increases result from both Ca²⁺ release from intracellular Ca²⁺ stores (McAinsh et al., 1992) and Ca²⁺ influx across the plasma membrane (Hamilton et al., 2000; Pei et al., 2000; Murata et al., 2001; Kwak et al., 2003; Hua et al., 2012). Electrophysiological analyses have characterized nonselective Ca²⁺-permeable channel activity in the plasma membrane of guard cells (Schroeder and Hagiwara, 1990; Hamilton et al., 2000; Pei et al., 2000; Murata et al., 2001; Köhler and Blatt, 2002; Miao et al., 2006; Mori et al., 2006; Suh et al., 2007; Vahisalu et al., 2008; Hua et al., 2012). However, the genetic identities of Ca²⁺-permeable channels in the plasma membrane of guard cells have remained unknown despite over two decades of research on these channel activities.The Arabidopsis genome includes 20 genes encoding cyclic nucleotide-gated channel (CNGC) homologs and 20 genes encoding homologs to animal Glu receptor channels (Lacombe et al., 2001; Kaplan et al., 2007; Ward et al., 2009), which have been proposed to function in plant cells as cation channels (Schuurink et al., 1998; Arazi et al., 1999; Köhler et al., 1999). Recent research has demonstrated functions of specific Glu receptor channels in mediating Ca²⁺ channel activity (Michard et al., 2011; Vincill et al., 2012). Previous studies have shown cAMP activation of nonselective cation currents in guard cells (Lemtiri-Chlieh and Berkowitz, 2004; Ali et al., 2007). However, only a few studies have shown the disappearance of a defined plasma membrane Ca²⁺ channel activity in plants upon mutation of candidate Ca²⁺ channel genes (Ali et al., 2007; Michard et al., 2011; Laohavisit et al., 2012; Vincill et al., 2012). Some CNGCs have been found to be involved in cation nutrient intake, including monovalent cation intake (Guo et al., 2010; Caballero et al., 2012), salt tolerance (Guo et al., 2008; Kugler et al., 2009), programmed cell death and pathogen responses (Clough et al., 2000; Balagué et al., 2003; Urquhart et al., 2007; Abdel-Hamid et al., 2013), thermal sensing (Finka et al., 2012; Gao et al., 2012), and pollen tube growth (Chang et al., 2007; Frietsch et al., 2007; Tunc-Ozdemir et al., 2013a, 2013b). Direct in vivo disappearance of Ca²⁺ channel activity in cngc disruption mutants has been demonstrated in only a few cases thus far (Ali et al., 2007; Gao et al., 2012). In this research, we show that CNGC5 and CNGC6 are required for a cyclic GMP (cGMP)-activated nonselective Ca²⁺-permeable cation channel activity in the plasma membrane of Arabidopsis guard cells.     

Overview of Nonhuman Primate Models of SARS-CoV-2

COVID-19, the disease caused by the SARS-CoV-2 betacoronavirus, was declared a pandemic by the World Health Organization on March 11, 2020. Since then, SARS-CoV-2 has triggered a devastating global health and economic emergency. In response, a broad range of preclinical animal models have been used to identify effective therapies and vaccines. Current animal models do not express the full spectrum of human COVID-19 disease and pathology, with most exhibiting mild to moderate disease without mortality. NHPs are physiologically, genetically, and immunologically more closely related to humans than other animal species; thus, they provide a relevant model for SARS-CoV-2 investigations. This overview summarizes NHP models of SARS-CoV-2 and their role in vaccine and therapeutic development.

Coronaviruses are enveloped, single-stranded, positive-sense, RNA viruses in the subfamily Orthocoronavirinae, family Coronaviridae, order Nidovirales. There are 4 coronavirus genera, that is, Alphacoronavirus and Betacoronavirus, which infect mammals; and Gammacoronavirus and Deltacoronavirus, which primarily infect birds, with some able to infect mammals.¹³³ From these natural reservoirs, coronaviruses may infect other animals and humans. Human transmission typically requires an intermediate host.Prior to the 2002 SARS-CoV epidemic, only 2 human coronaviruses (HCoVs) had been identified - an alphacoronavirus (HCoV-229E) transmitted from bats to humans by alpacas, and a betacoronavirus (HCoV-OC43) transmitted from rodents to humans by cattle.^16,18 In 2004, HCoV-NL63 (alphacoronavirus, bat reservoir) and in 2005, HCoV-HKU1 (betacoronavirus, rodent reservoir) were identified.^39,132 Together, these 4 HCoVs cause an estimated 15% to 30% of common cold cases in humans, but can cause severe infections in infants, juvenile children, and the elderly.^23,64 However, in 2002, a new betacoronavirus caused an epidemic that originated in China, resulting in 8,000 confirmed cases with a mortality rate of 9.6%. The virus was named SARS-CoV and was transmitted from bats to humans by a palm civet intermediate host.^59,63,83 Ten years later in June 2012, MERS-CoV, a novel betacoronavirus transmitted from bats to humans by dromedary camels, emerged in Saudi Arabia.^17,25 MERS-CoV was also responsible for a 2015 outbreak in South Korea. Although human-to-human transmission of MERS-CoV was limited, the virus resulted in more than 2,000 confirmed cases and a mortality rate of approximately 35%.⁹ Elderly people and those with comorbidities were more likely to develop severe disease.⁴³Seven y later, in December 2019, another novel betacoronavirus named SARS-CoV-2, emerged in Wuhan City, Hubei Province China.^19,26 The animal reservoir responsible for transmission to humans has not been definitively identified but has been reported to be bats.^4,143 In February 2020, the World Health Organization named the disease associated with SARS-CoV-2, Corona virus disease 19 (COVID-19) and declared it a pandemic on March 11, 2020.^22,62,95 COVID-19 causes fever and pneumonia that can progress to acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS), multiple organ dysfunction and failure, coagulopathy, and death.³¹ Common gross findings in human autopsy specimens include lung consolidation, pulmonary edema, increased lung weight, pleurisy, white mucous and pink froth in airways, and hemorrhage. Histopathologic changes of human COVID-19 follow a timeline relative to the onset of symptoms.⁸⁶ During early infection, microvascular damage, thrombi, exudate formation, and intra-alveolar fibrin deposits occur. Epithelial changes can be present at all stages of disease, specifically diffuse alveolar damage (DAD), which includes hyaline membrane formation, epithelial denudation and pneumocyte hyperplasia. Finally, interstitial fibrosis develops about 3 wk after symptom onset.¹¹⁰ The clinical presentation of those infected with SARS-CoV-2 ranges from mild to severe to critical in 81%, 14%, and 5% of cases, respectively.^135,145 Similar to SARS-CoV and MERS-CoV, severe disease from SARS-CoV-2 is more likely in elderly individuals or in those with comorbidities.^12,72,127 In a New York City hospital study, deaths among hospital patients at the study endpoint were 3.3% or lower in patients in their 40s or younger, 4.8% among those in their 50s, 6.4% in their 60s, 12.6% in their 70s, and 25.9% in their 80s or above. Age related death rates reported by China, Italy and France are similar to the United States. Reported rates of asymptomatic infection range from 4% to 32%; however,¹²⁷ a systematic review concluded that true asymptomatic infection could be uncommon.^8,82,111,127The contagiousness of an infectious disease is referred to as the R₀, or reproduction number, and indicates the average number of people who will contract a contagious disease from someone infected with that disease. SARS-CoV (R₀ of 1.5 to 1.9)^12,72,127 and MERS-CoV (R₀ of less than 1) have R₀ values lower than SARS-CoV-2 (initial R₀ was calculated to be 2.0 to 2.5, now revised upward to 5.7) and a lower fatality rate (2.3%).^84,97 As of December 26, 2020, 78,604,532 confirmed SARS-CoV-2 cases and 1,744,235 COVID-19 related deaths have been reported worldwide.¹²⁹ The global impact of COVID-19 has been catastrophic, with adverse effects on physical and mental health, an overwhelming need for health care resources, and increased poverty and economic insecurity.⁴⁷ Effective vaccines and therapeutics are key to controlling the SARS-CoV-2 pandemic. The success of these efforts depends in part on animal models that replicate human COVID-19 disease.^52,81,105The ideal animal model for SARS-CoV-2 should be permissive to infection, have the same receptors for viral entry as in humans, and replicate the full spectrum of human COVID-19 disease and pathology.¹⁰⁹ Several publications review and compare common animal models for SARS-CoV-2 and conclude that current models simulate mild infection with full recovery, but not severe COVID-19 disease.^{13,31,52,78,81,100,105} Disease features not expressed in current animal models include ARDS, coagulopathy, systemic sequelae, and mortality.³¹This review will focus on why NHPs provide a valuable model for SARS-CoV-2 research. Using NHPs has several drawbacks as compared with small animal models, including higher purchase cost, limited availability, higher housing cost, larger space requirement, and need for specialized staff. In addition, NHPs are outbred, leading to greater variation in results among individual animals, sometimes making data analysis and interpretation difficult.^40,68 The preexisting shortage of NHPs available for biomedical research, combined with the high demand for COVID-19 research and China’s ban on the sale, transport, and export of NHPs to curtail the spread of COVID-19 (instituted January 26, 2020) has affected NHP research globally.^{3,116,138,141} Nevertheless, the scientific benefits of using NHPs for SARS-CoV-2 research outweigh these drawbacks. NHPs are physiologically, genetically, and immunologically more closely related to humans than are small animals.⁶⁸ Furthermore, the main receptor for SAR-CoV-2 binding, angiotensin l converting enzyme 2 (ACE2), in catarrhines (apes, Asian monkeys, and African monkeys) is identical to the human ACE2 receptor.^24,74 Moreover, like most humans, macaques infected with SARS-CoV-2 develop mild to moderate respiratory disease. Thus, macaques offer a relevant model to study SARS-CoV-2 pathogenesis, therapeutics, vaccines, and the impact of age and other comorbidities on disease outcome.     

New-Onset Diabetes Mellitus After Transplantation in a Cynomolgus Macaque (Macaca fasicularis)

A 5.5-y-old intact male cynomolgus macaque (Macaca fasicularis) presented with inappetence and weight loss 57 d after heterotopic heart and thymus transplantation while receiving an immunosuppressant regimen consisting of tacrolimus, mycophenolate mofetil, and methylprednisolone to prevent graft rejection. A serum chemistry panel, a glycated hemoglobin test, and urinalysis performed at presentation revealed elevated blood glucose and glycated hemoglobin (HbA1c) levels (727 mg/dL and 10.1%, respectively), glucosuria, and ketonuria. Diabetes mellitus was diagnosed, and insulin therapy was initiated immediately. The macaque was weaned off the immunosuppressive therapy as his clinical condition improved and stabilized. Approximately 74 d after discontinuation of the immunosuppressants, the blood glucose normalized, and the insulin therapy was stopped. The animal''s blood glucose and HbA1c values have remained within normal limits since this time. We suspect that our macaque experienced new-onset diabetes mellitus after transplantation, a condition that is commonly observed in human transplant patients but not well described in NHP. To our knowledge, this report represents the first documented case of new-onset diabetes mellitus after transplantation in a cynomolgus macaque.Abbreviations: NODAT, new-onset diabetes mellitus after transplantationNew-onset diabetes mellitus after transplantation (NODAT, formerly known as posttransplantation diabetes mellitus) is an important consequence of solid-organ transplantation in humans.^{7-10,15,17,19,21,25-28,31,33,34,37,38,42} A variety of risk factors have been identified including increased age, sex (male prevalence), elevated pretransplant fasting plasma glucose levels, and immunosuppressive therapy.^{7-10,15,17,19,21,25-28,31,33,34,37,38,42} The relationship between calcineurin inhibitors, such as tacrolimus and cyclosporin, and the development of NODAT is widely recognized in human medicine.^{7-10,15,17,19,21,25-28,31,33,34,37,38,42} Cynomolgus macaques (Macaca fasicularis) are a commonly used NHP model in organ transplantation research. Cases of natural and induced diabetes of cynomolgus monkeys have been described in the literature;^14,43,45 however, NODAT in a macaque model of solid-organ transplantation has not been reported previously to our knowledge.     

Differential Mobility of Pigment-Protein Complexes in Granal and Agranal Thylakoid Membranes of C3 and C4 Plants

The photosynthetic performance of plants is crucially dependent on the mobility of the molecular complexes that catalyze the conversion of sunlight to metabolic energy equivalents in the thylakoid membrane network inside chloroplasts. The role of the extensive folding of thylakoid membranes leading to structural differentiation into stacked grana regions and unstacked stroma lamellae for diffusion-based processes of the photosynthetic machinery is poorly understood. This study examines, to our knowledge for the first time, the mobility of photosynthetic pigment-protein complexes in unstacked thylakoid regions in the C₃ plant Arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana) and agranal bundle sheath chloroplasts of the C₄ plants sorghum (Sorghum bicolor) and maize (Zea mays) by the fluorescence recovery after photobleaching technique. In unstacked thylakoid membranes, more than 50% of the protein complexes are mobile, whereas this number drops to about 20% in stacked grana regions. The higher molecular mobility in unstacked thylakoid regions is explained by a lower protein-packing density compared with stacked grana regions. It is postulated that thylakoid membrane stacking to form grana leads to protein crowding that impedes lateral diffusion processes but is required for efficient light harvesting of the modularly organized photosystem II and its light-harvesting antenna system. In contrast, the arrangement of the photosystem I light-harvesting complex I in separate units in unstacked thylakoid membranes does not require dense protein packing, which is advantageous for protein diffusion.In higher plants, the photosynthetic apparatus is compartmentalized in the specialized chloroplast organelle. The molecular machinery for the primary photosynthetic processes, the sunlight-driven generation of metabolic energy equivalents, is harbored in an intricate thylakoid membrane system within the chloroplasts. Recent improvements in electron tomography have led to three-dimensional models of the complex architecture of thylakoid membranes (Mustárdy and Garab, 2003; Nevo et al., 2009; Austin and Staehelin, 2011; Daum et al., 2010; Kouřil et al., 2011). Although important details about the thylakoid structure are still highly controversial, consensus exists about the overall design of this membrane system. The thylakoid membrane consists of two morphologically distinct domains: strictly stacked cylindrical grana regions with a diameter of 300 to 600 nm are interconnected by unstacked stroma lamellae, thus forming a continuous membrane system. The molecular complexes that catalyze energy transformation are distributed heterogeneously between the stacked and unstacked membrane regions. The majority of the PSII complex and light-harvesting complex II (LHCII) are localized in stacked thylakoid regions, whereas PSI and the ATP-synthase complex are lacking from stacked grana (Staehelin and van der Staay, 1996; Albertsson, 2001; Dekker and Boekema, 2005). It is assumed that the fifth photosynthetic protein complex (cytochrome b₆f complex) is homogenously distributed.An essential feature of the thylakoid membrane system is its high flexibility, which is required for adaptability and maintenance of the photosynthetic machinery in plants. Highly responsive to environmental conditions, both the overall thylakoid architecture (e.g. number of grana discs) and the molecular membrane composition can change remarkably to optimize, protect, and maintain the photosynthetic apparatus (Walters, 2005; Anderson et al., 2008; Chuartzman et al., 2008; Dietzel et al., 2008; Betterle et al., 2009; Johnson et al., 2011). The underlying molecular processes require brisk protein traffic between stacked and unstacked thylakoid domains (Kirchhoff, 2008). The role of grana in these transport-based processes is poorly understood.Although photosynthetic energy conversion is possible without grana (Anderson et al., 2008), the fact that stacked thylakoids are ubiquitous in almost all land plants (with the exception of chloroplasts in bundle sheath [BS] cells in some C₄ plants; see below) highlights the evolutionary pressure to preserve this complex structural feature. Recently, the importance of grana formation was highlighted in Arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana) mutants that lack the GRANA-DEFICIENT CHLOROPLAST1 gene; they grow much slower than the wild type and exhibit seed lethargy due to missing grana formation (Cui et al., 2011). The functional advantages of grana formation have been discussed extensively (Trissl and Wilhelm, 1993; Mullineaux, 2005; Anderson et al., 2008). It was hypothesized that grana could (1) increase the thylakoid membrane area, and the pigment concentration, in chloroplasts, (2) avoid energy spillover from PSII to PSI, (3) regulate the balance of energy distribution between PSII and PSI by state transition, and (4) enable transversal exciton energy transfer between adjacent grana discs. Although there are good arguments that these possibilities are important for photosynthetic energy conversion, the basis for the evolutionary development of grana has not been determined (Mullineaux, 2005; Anderson et al., 2008).A less considered aspect of grana formation is that it leads to a concentration of protein complexes (Murphy, 1986; Kirchhoff, 2008). The membrane area fraction that belongs to integral photosynthetic protein complexes is about 70%, making grana discs one of the most crowded biomembranes (Kirchhoff, 2008). Light harvesting by PSII benefits from a high protein-packing density for two reasons. First, a concentration of PSII and LHCII in grana ensures a high concentration of light-absorbing pigments that increase the probability of capturing sunlight, which is a “dilute” energy source on the molecular scale (Blankenship, 2002). Second, it has been demonstrated that a high protein-packing density in grana thylakoids is required for efficient intermolecular exciton energy transfer between LHCII and PSII (Haferkamp et al., 2010). Macromolecular crowding ensures that weakly interacting LHCII and PSII complexes come in close contact, allowing efficient Förster-type energy transfer.Besides these advantages, lateral protein traffic is challenged by macromolecular crowding (Mullineaux, 2005; Kirchhoff, 2008). The molecular mobility of proteins in grana thylakoids is reduced by numerous collisions of the diffusing object in the two-dimensional reaction space of the membrane with obstacles, integral membrane proteins, that increase the apparent diffusion path and, consequently, the diffusion time. The strong impairment of a high protein density in grana thylakoids on protein mobility was demonstrated by computer simulations (Tremmel et al., 2003; Kirchhoff et al., 2004) and by diffusion measurement on isolated grana membranes (Kirchhoff et al., 2008) and intact chloroplasts (Goral et al., 2010) using the fluorescence recovery after photobleaching (FRAP) technique. Processes that are expected to be affected by restricted protein mobility are a regulation of energy distributed between PSII and PSI by state transitions (Lemeille and Rochaix, 2010), the repair of photodamaged PSII (Mulo et al., 2008), membrane remodeling triggered by long-term environmental changes (Walters, 2005; Anderson et al., 2008), and the biogenesis of the thylakoid membrane network (Adam et al., 2011). Recently, evidence has accumulated that photoprotective high-energy quenching also requires large-scale diffusion-based structural reorganization within grana thylakoids (Betterle et al., 2009; Johnson et al., 2011).In contrast to our current understanding of diffusion-based processes in thylakoid membranes, knowledge about the factors that determine the mobility of photosynthetic protein complexes in different thylakoid domains is still fragmentary (Mullineaux, 2008). The protein-packing density is very likely a main element that determines protein mobility (Kirchhoff et al., 2008). However, other factors, like electrostatic interactions between proteins by membrane surface charges (Tremmel et al., 2005) or the size and molecular shape of protein complexes (Tremmel et al., 2003), can contribute significantly. However, data only exist about protein mobility for isolated grana thylakoids (Kirchhoff et al., 2008) and for chloroplasts from the grana-containing C₃ plant Arabidopsis (Goral et al., 2010). The diffusion characteristics of the latter are almost completely determined by granal proteins. Limiting information on protein diffusion exists for stroma lamellae of C₃ plants (Consoli et al., 2005; Vladimirou et al., 2009), and no data are available for agranal thylakoids, which occur in BS cells of some C₄ species.This study fills this gap in the knowledge base by studying lateral protein diffusion in unstacked thylakoid membranes in BS chloroplasts of two NADP-malate enzyme (ME)-type C₄ species, maize (Zea mays) and sorghum (Sorghum bicolor), in comparison with the grana-containing mesophyll (M) chloroplasts. The analysis was also complemented by studies on isolated thylakoid subfragments (grana core, grana, and stroma lamellae) from Arabidopsis. The protein mobility was measured by FRAP (Mullineaux and Kirchhoff, 2007), which has been shown to be a straightforward method to analyze protein diffusion in photosynthetic membranes by utilizing natural chlorophyll fluorescence (Kirchhoff et al., 2008; Goral et al., 2010). The comparison with diffusion characteristics in unstacked versus stacked membrane areas highlights the significance of grana formation on the lateral mobility of photosynthetic pigment-protein complexes.     

Flexible open conformation of the AP-3 complex explains its role in cargo recruitment at the Golgi

Vesicle formation at endomembranes requires the selective concentration of cargo by coat proteins. Conserved adapter protein complexes at the Golgi (AP-3), the endosome (AP-1), or the plasma membrane (AP-2) with their conserved core domain and flexible ear domains mediate this function. These complexes also rely on the small GTPase Arf1 and/or specific phosphoinositides for membrane binding. The structural details that influence these processes, however, are still poorly understood. Here we present cryo-EM structures of the full-length stable 300 kDa yeast AP-3 complex. The structures reveal that AP-3 adopts an open conformation in solution, comparable to the membrane-bound conformations of AP-1 or AP-2. This open conformation appears to be far more flexible than AP-1 or AP-2, resulting in compact, intermediate, and stretched subconformations. Mass spectrometrical analysis of the cross-linked AP-3 complex further indicates that the ear domains are flexibly attached to the surface of the complex. Using biochemical reconstitution assays, we also show that efficient AP-3 recruitment to the membrane depends primarily on cargo binding. Once bound to cargo, AP-3 clustered and immobilized cargo molecules, as revealed by single-molecule imaging on polymer-supported membranes. We conclude that its flexible open state may enable AP-3 to bind and collect cargo at the Golgi and could thus allow coordinated vesicle formation at the trans-Golgi upon Arf1 activation.

Eukaryotic cells have membrane-enclosed organelles, which carry out specialized functions, including compartmentalized biochemical reactions, metabolic channeling, and regulated signaling, inside a single cell. The transport of proteins, lipids, and other molecules between these organelles is mediated largely by small vesicular carriers that bud off at a donor compartment and fuse with the target membrane to deliver their cargo. The generation of these vesicles has been subject to extensive studies and has led to the identification of numerous coat proteins that are required for their formation at different sites (1, 2). Coat proteins can be monomers, but in most cases, they consist of several proteins, which form a heteromeric complex.Heterotetrameric adapter protein (AP) complexes are required at several endomembranes for cargo binding. Five well-conserved AP-complexes with differing functions have been identified in mammalian cells, named AP-1–AP-5, of which three (AP-1–AP-3) are conserved from yeast to human (3, 4). The three conserved adapter complexes function at different membranes along the endomembrane system. AP-1 is required for cargo transport between the Golgi and the endosome, AP-2 is required for cargo recognition and transport between the plasma membrane and the early endosome. Finally, AP-3 functions between the trans Golgi and the vacuole in yeast, whereas mammalian AP-3 localizes to a tubular endosomal compartment, in addition to or instead of the TGN (2, 5, 6).Each of the complexes consists of four different subunits: two large adaptins (named α−ζ and β1-5 respectively), a medium-sized subunit (μ1-5), and a small subunit (σ1-5). While μ- and σ-subunits together with the N-termini of the large adaptins build the membrane-binding core of the complex, the C-termini of both adaptins contain the ear domains, which are connected via flexible linkers (2). The recruitment of these complexes to membranes is not entirely conserved. They all require cargo binding, yet AP-1 binds Arf1-GTP with the γ and β1 subunit and phosphatidylinositol-4-phosphate (PI4P) via a proposed conserved site on its γ-subunit (7, 8). AP-2, on the other hand, interacts with PI(4,5)P₂ at the plasma membrane via its α, β2, and μ2 subunits (9, 10, 11).Several studies have uncovered how AP-3 functions in cargo sorting in yeast. AP-3 recognizes cargo at the Golgi via two sorting motifs in the cytosolic segments of membrane proteins: a Yxxφ sorting motif, as found in yeast in the SNARE Nyv1 or the Yck3 casein kinase, which binds to a site in μ3, as shown for mammalian AP-3, which is similar to μ2 in AP-2 (12, 13, 14), and dileucine motifs as found in the yeast SNARE Vam3 or the alkaline phosphatase Pho8, potentially also at a site comparable to AP-1 and AP-2 (15, 16). Unlike AP-1 and AP-2-coated vesicles, which depend on clathrin for their formation (2, 17), AP-3 vesicle formation in yeast does not require clathrin or the HOPS subunit Vps41 (18), yet Vps41 is required at the vacuole to bind AP-3 vesicles prior to fusion (19, 20, 21, 22). Studies in metazoan cells revealed that Vps41 and AP-3 function in regulated secretion (23, 24, 25), and AP-3 is required for biogenesis of lysosome-related organelles (26). This suggests that the AP-3 complex has features that are quite different from AP-1 and AP-2 complexes, which cooperate with clathrin in vesicle formation (2).Among the three conserved AP complexes, the function of the AP-3 complex is the least understood. Arf1 is necessary for efficient AP-3 vesicle generation in mammalian cells and shows a direct interaction with the β3 and δ subunits of AP-3 (27, 28). In addition, in vitro experiments on mammalian AP-3 using liposomes or enriched Golgi membranes suggest Arf1 as an important factor in AP-3 recruitment, whereas acidic lipids do not have a major effect, in contrast to what was found for AP-1 and AP-2 (7, 11, 29, 30). Another study showed that membrane recruitment of AP-3 depends on the recognition of sorting signals in cargo tails and PI3P (31), similar to AP-1 recruitment via cargo tails, Arf1 and PI4P (32).However, since AP-1 and AP-3 are both recruited to the trans-Golgi network (TGN) in yeast (33), the mechanism of their recruitment likely differs. Even though Arf1 is required, yeast AP-3 seems to be present at the TGN before the arrival of the Arf1 guanine nucleotide exchange factor (GEF) Sec7 (33). This implies the necessity for additional factors at the TGN and a distinct mechanism to allow for spatial and temporal separation of AP-1 and AP-3 recruitment to membranes. Structural data on mammalian AP-1 and AP-2 “core” complexes without the hinge and ear domains of their large subunits revealed that both exist in at least two very defined conformational states: a “closed” cytosolic state, where the cargo-binding sites are buried within the complex, and an “open” state, where the same sites are available to bind cargo (7, 8, 10, 34, 35). Binding of Arf1 to AP-1 or PI(4,5)P₂ in case of AP-2 induces a conformational change in the complexes that enables them to bind cargo molecules carrying a conserved acidic di-Leucine or a Tyrosine-based motif, as for all three AP complexes in yeast (8, 34). Additional conformational states and intermediates have been reported for both, mammalian AP-1 and AP-2 complex. AP-1, for example, can be hijacked by the human immunodeficiency virus-1 (HIV-1) proteins viral protein u (Vpu) and negative factor (Nef), resulting in a hyper-open conformation of AP-1 (36, 37).An emerging model over the past years has suggested that APs have several binding sites that allow for the stabilization of membrane binding and the open conformation of the complexes, but there are initial interactions required that dictate their recruitment to the target membrane. Although these interaction sites for mammalian AP-1 and AP-2 have been identified in great detail based on interaction analyses and structural studies (8, 10, 11, 35, 36, 38, 39), structural data for AP-3 is largely missing. The C-terminal part of the μ-subunit of mammalian AP-3 has been crystallized together with a Yxxφ motif-containing a cargo peptide, which revealed a similar fold and cargo-binding site as shown for AP-1 and AP-2 (14). However, positively charged binding surfaces required for PIP-interaction were not well conserved. Although the “trunk” segment of AP-1 and AP-2 is known quite well by now, information on hinge and ear domains in context of these complexes is largely missing. Crystal structures of the isolated ear domains of α-, γ- and β2-adaptin have been published (40, 41, 42), and a study on mammalian AP-3 suggested a direct interaction between δ-ear and δ3 that interfered with Arf1-binding (43). Furthermore, during tethering of AP-3 vesicles with the yeast vacuole, the δ−subunit Apl5 of the yeast AP-3 complex binds to the Vps41 subunit of the HOPS complex as a prerequisite of fusion (18, 19, 21, 22).In this study, we applied single particle electron cryo-microscopy (cryo-EM) to analyze the purified full-length AP-3 complex from yeast and unraveled the factors required for AP-3 recruitment to membranes by biochemical reconstitution. Our data reveal that a surprisingly flexible AP-3 complex requires a combination of cargo, PI4P, and Arf1 for membrane binding, which explains its function in selective cargo sorting at the Golgi.