Immunomodulation by Mesenchymal Stem Cells in Veterinary Species

Mesenchymal stem cells (MSC) are adult-derived multipotent stem cells that have been derived from almost every tissue. They are classically defined as spindle-shaped, plastic-adherent cells capable of adipogenic, chondrogenic, and osteogenic differentiation. This capacity for trilineage differentiation has been the foundation for research into the use of MSC to regenerate damaged tissues. Recent studies have shown that MSC interact with cells of the immune system and modulate their function. Although many of the details underlying the mechanisms by which MSC modulate the immune system have been defined for human and rodent (mouse and rat) MSC, much less is known about MSC from other veterinary species. This knowledge gap is particularly important because the clinical use of MSC in veterinary medicine is increasing and far exceeds the use of MSC in human medicine. It is crucial to determine how MSC modulate the immune system for each animal species as well as for MSC derived from any given tissue source. A comparative approach provides a unique translational opportunity to bring novel cell-based therapies to the veterinary market as well as enhance the utility of animal models for human disorders. The current review covers what is currently known about MSC and their immunomodulatory functions in veterinary species, excluding laboratory rodents.Abbreviations: AT, adipose tissue; BM, Bone marrow; CB, umbilical cord blood; CT, umbilical cord tissue; DC, dendritic cell; IDO, indoleamine 2;3-dioxygenase; MSC, mesenchymal stem cells; PGE₂, prostaglandin E2; VEGF, vascular endothelial growth factorMesenchymal stem cells (MSC, alternatively known as mesenchymal stromal cells) were first reported in the literature in 1968.³⁹ MSC are thought to be of pericyte origin (cells that line the vasculature)^21,22 and typically are isolated from highly vascular tissues. In humans and mice, MSC have been isolated from fat, placental tissues (placenta, Wharton jelly, umbilical cord, umbilical cord blood), hair follicles, tendon, synovial membrane, periodontal ligament, and every major organ (brain, spleen, liver, kidney, lung, bone marrow, muscle, thymus, pancreas, skin).^23,121 For most current clinical applications, MSC are isolated from adipose tissue (AT), bone marrow (BM), umbilical cord blood (CB), and umbilical cord tissue (CT; 11,87,99 Clinical trials in human medicine focus on the use of MSC both for their antiinflammatory properties (graft-versus-host disease, irritable bowel syndrome) and their ability to aid in tissue and bone regeneration in combination with growth factors and bone scaffolds (clinicaltrials.gov).¹³¹ For tissue regeneration, the abilities of MSC to differentiate and to secrete mediators and interact with cells of the immune system likely contribute to tissue healing (Figure 1). The current review will not address the specific use of MSC for orthopedic applications and tissue regeneration, although the topic is covered widely in current literature for both human and veterinary medicine.^57,62,90

Table 1.

Tissues from which MSC have been isolated

Functional and structural differences between skinned and intact muscle preparations

Myofilaments and their associated proteins, which together constitute the sarcomeres, provide the molecular-level basis for contractile function in all muscle types. In intact muscle, sarcomere-level contraction is strongly coupled to other cellular subsystems, in particular the sarcolemmal membrane. Skinned muscle preparations (where the sarcolemma has been removed or permeabilized) are an experimental system designed to probe contractile mechanisms independently of the sarcolemma. Over the last few decades, experiments performed using permeabilized preparations have been invaluable for clarifying the understanding of contractile mechanisms in both skeletal and cardiac muscle. Today, the technique is increasingly harnessed for preclinical and/or pharmacological studies that seek to understand how interventions will impact intact muscle contraction. In this context, intrinsic functional and structural differences between skinned and intact muscle pose a major interpretational challenge. This review first surveys measurements that highlight these differences in terms of the sarcomere structure, passive and active tension generation, and calcium dependence. We then highlight the main practical challenges and caveats faced by experimentalists seeking to emulate the physiological conditions of intact muscle. Gaining an awareness of these complexities is essential for putting experiments in due perspective.

IntroductionIn striated muscle, force is generated by sarcomeres located within myocytes (Bers, 2001, 2002). The sarcomere is located within the selectively permeable cell membrane, which supports intracellular ionic homeostasis. Within this highly regulated space, sarcomere force generation is activated by dynamic changes in cytosolic Ca²⁺. The sarcomeric protein troponin C (TnC) binds to Ca²⁺, which prompts the formation of myosin cross-bridges between the sarcomere thick (myosin) and thin (actin) filaments. These myofilaments are arranged in a regular lattice oriented along the muscle fiber direction and form the main structural basis of myocyte contraction. The contraction process is regulated by many other intracellular molecules and ions, in particular Mg²⁺ and H⁺, as well as by cellular and sarcomeric morphologies.To identify the ionic and molecular mechanisms that regulate the sarcomere, it is necessary to control the chemical environment it is exposed to. The biochemistry of the sarcomere proteins can be studied using in vitro biochemistry assays. However, these fail to account for the regular structure of the sarcomere, which is important for both biochemistry and function. Alternatively, the sarcomeres can be accessed by skinning the muscle, i.e., removing the sarcolemma membrane (or making it permeable to compounds and ions), while preserving sarcomere functionality (Curtin et al., 2015). Exposing the sarcomeres to tailored ionic conditions provides a means to observe and control molecular behavior in a setting that more closely resembles native structures. After skinning, the sarcomere system is effectively isolated from the other cellular subsystems (except in some skeletal muscle experiments that remove the sarcolemma while preserving intracellular organelles and structures; Donaldson, 1985; Fill and Best, 1988; Posterino et al., 2000). This facilitates the study of contraction and its regulation separately from the sarcolemma. The central assumption of skinned muscle experiments is that the response of the sarcomeres to changes in the natural cytosol can be reproduced artificially and controllably through analogous changes in the bathing solution.In skinning protocols (typically used with skeletal muscle) where the SR is preserved, applying caffeine liberates the intracellular Ca²⁺ reserves to stimulate contraction (Donaldson, 1985). In cases where the T tubules are preserved in the skinning process, ionic substitution in the bathing solution may induce T-tubule membrane depolarization and hence Ca²⁺ release from the SR (Fill and Best, 1988). An alternative approach to releasing SR calcium is by electric-field stimulation, with the electric field applied transversely relative to the fiber direction (Posterino et al., 2000).The principal readouts of skinned-muscle experiments are contraction kinetics, adenosine triphosphatase (ATPase) activity, and generated force. Their value therefore rests on the premise that the structural integrity of the sarcomeres is preserved. Under this condition, skinned muscle may be viewed as an intermediary experimental system, straddling intact muscle and in vitro molecular experiments.Skinned preparations allow the probing of muscle behavior beyond the current reach of experiments on intact systems. In experiments where contraction is elicited by controlling the bath [Ca²⁺], the influence of “cytosolic” conditions on Ca²⁺ sensitivity, in the steady-state, is typically presented in terms of Hill-type force-[Ca²⁺] relationships, or “F-pCa,” where pCa ≡ − log₁₀[Ca²⁺]/(mol/liter). Other intracellular molecular structures that fulfill structural and mechanical roles (e.g., titin [Cazorla et al., 2001; Fukuda and Granzier, 2005; Fukuda et al., 2005; Li et al., 2016; Tonino et al., 2017] or the cytoskeleton [Roos and Brady, 1989]) can also be investigated. The controlled progression of the system from one equilibrium state to another has helped to reveal, for example, hysteresis in F-pCa, which may potentially fulfill a physiological role but would be difficult to identify in the dynamic natural system (Bers, 2001; Harrison et al., 1988). Dynamic mechanical experiments also yield insight into myofilament kinetics (Breithaupt et al., 2019; Palmer et al., 2020; Stelzer et al., 2006; Terui et al., 2010). In some (mechanical) skinning methods that preserve the T tubules, further details of the excitation–contraction coupling become experimentally accessible (Fill and Best, 1988; Posterino et al., 2000). The ability to perform protein-exchange manipulations (e.g., cardiac versus skeletal TnC; Babu et al., 1988; Gulati and Babu, 1989), to include fluorescent proteins (e.g., troponin; Brenner et al., 1999), and to perform time-resolved dynamics measurements through the flash photolysis of caged compounds (ATP [Goldman et al., 1982, 1984], inorganic phosphate [Araujo and Walker, 1996; Dantzig et al., 1992; Millar and Homsher, 1990; Tesi et al., 2000], and Ca²⁺ chelators [Luo et al., 2002; Wahr et al., 1998]) provide additional handles for probing molecular mechanisms. Overall, much of our understanding of striated muscle generally and cytosolic conditions (temperature, pH, etc.) is derived from skinned-muscle experiments (Bers, 2001).Historically, skinning has been performed in a wide array of animal species and striated muscle systems, ranging from single cells to multicellular fibers of cardiac, skeletal, and smooth muscle. Various skinning techniques have been proposed. In “mechanical” skinning, the sarcolemma is effectively peeled off (entirely or partially; Cassens et al., 1986; Endo, 1977; Trube, 1978) by microdissection (Azimi et al., 2020; Donaldson, 1985; Fabiato, 1985b; Fabiato and Fabiato, 1975, 1977, 1978a, 1978b; Fill and Best, 1988; Godt, 1974; Godt and Maughan, 1977; Jewell, 1977; Lamb and Stephenson, 2018; Matsubara and Elliott, 1972; Moisescu, 1976; Rebbeck et al., 2020), while preserving the structural integrity and function of the T tubules and the SR (Lamb and Stephenson, 1990; Posterino et al., 2000; Stephenson, 1981). However, the technique is difficult and no longer used routinely. In contrast, “chemical” skinning involves dissolving or permeabilizing the membrane by applying a chemical agent. The most common agent is Triton X-100 (Solaro et al., 1971), but alternatives include Brij (Hibberd and Jewell, 1982), lubrol (Scheld et al., 1989), glycerol, and saponin (Edes et al., 1995; Endo and Iino, 1980; Gwathmey and Hajjar, 1990; Launikonis and Stephenson, 1997; Patel et al., 2001). Chemical skinning is particularly appropriate for multicellular tissue preparations. Controlling the precise protocol and chemical agent reportedly allows the selective dissolution of the sarcolemma membrane while leaving intracellular organelles (mitochondria and SR) intact. Nonetheless, treatment with (typically 1%) Triton X-100 frees the myofibrils of contamination by mitochondrial, sarcolemmal, and SR membranes while preserving ATPase activity and sensitivity to Ca²⁺ (Solaro et al., 1971). This straightforwardness makes Triton X-100 demembranation the predominantly used technique today. Other reported skinning approaches use propionate (Reuben et al., 1971) or the Ca²⁺ chelators EGTA or EDTA (Thomas, 1960; Winegard, 1971; Miller, 1979), but the uncertainty in the underlying mechanisms has undermined the reliability of these methods (Miller, 1979). For completeness, we also mention a less used “freeze drying” approach that arguably preserves the protein content of the fibers better than chemical skinning (De Beer et al., 1992; Schiereck et al., 1993; Stienen et al., 1983).Although, for many years, skinned muscle experiments have served as an invaluable method for investigating fundamental physiology, they are increasingly inspiring more ambitious practical applications. At a practical level, live human cells are inevitably a highly scarce resource, with facilities for collecting, storing, and measuring samples often being displaced both geographically and temporally. These issues are more realistically resolved with skinned cells, which can be preserved frozen for several months (Mosqueira et al., 2019). The development of new sarcomere drugs, including omecamtiv mecarbil and mavacamten, demonstrate that the sarcomere is a viable drug target (Tsukamoto, 2019). Similarly, Ca²⁺-sensitizing drugs (which act by increasing either the sensitivity to [Ca²⁺] or the magnitude of the generated force) such as levosimendan (Edes et al., 1995), pimobendan (Fitton and Brogden, 1994; Scheld et al., 1989), sulmazole (Solaro and Rüegg, 1982), isomazole (Lues et al., 1988), and EMD-57033 (Gross et al., 1993; Lee and Allen, 1997) have all been assessed using measurements on skinned fibers. Identifying further novel sarcomere modulator compounds requires large high-throughput screening, which is unrealistic using intact muscle.There is also a growing appetite for exploiting the quantitative value of skinned muscle experiments for more direct clinical applications, such as guiding patient-specific therapies. Much of this ambition relies on the integrative power of computational models to simulate human heart mechanics based on individual patients’ data, linking sub-cellular mechanisms with systemic behavior (Niederer et al., 2019a, 2019b). Building upon basic understanding of muscle behavior, recent developments in biomedical engineering extrapolate physiological processes at the cellular and tissue levels to predict global whole-heart function. As this field continues to grow in maturity, and as model predictions allow more meaningful comparisons with clinical data, efforts are increasingly focusing on quantitatively elucidating the interdependence between cellular behavior, tissue properties, and the anatomy. The quantitative accuracy of the subsystems at all these levels therefore becomes paramount.In both of these evolving applications, the relevance and value of skinned-muscle experiments hinges on their ability to reliably emulate the intact system (Land et al., 2017; Margara et al., 2021; Mijailovich et al., 2021). Skinned-muscle experiments conducted over the past decades confirm the fidelity, in many respects, of these preparations as valid experimental models. However, they also highlight caveats and significant interpretational challenges. Gaining an awareness of these issues is becoming all the more essential to avoid misinterpretations that may have practical consequences. This review therefore aims to highlight these challenges, to help users of skinned-based measurements put them in an appropriate perspective.The present review is structured as follows. We first compare measurements of the principal physiological properties of skinned and intact muscle, highlighting similarities and discrepancies. We focus primarily on chemical skinning, and in particular Triton X-100 (the predominantly used chemical agent). We then describe practical challenges involved in conducting experiments, insofar as they impact on measurement outcomes. We conclude with a summary of recommendations and main caveats.Comparing skinned and intact muscleSkinned muscle experiments aim to reveal and controllably reproduce features of the physiological function of sarcomeres. However, notable discrepancies arise between skinned- and intact-muscle measurements of basic muscle properties that govern overall muscle function. To establish these differences rigorously at the single-cell level encounters significant methodological challenges. Although it might seem obvious that this would require doing measurements systematically on both preparation types in tandem, many early experiments were done predominantly on skinned rather than on intact cells (King et al., 2011). This stems largely from the specific challenges of noninjurious cell attachment and performing small-force measurement on intact single cells (Brady, 1991). More recently, technical developments (e.g., involving the use of flexible carbon fibers to hold the cells at opposite ends; Iribe et al., 2007; Le Guennec et al., 1990; Yasuda et al., 2001) have made these measurements more practicable. Despite these advances, however, only a fraction of studies in the literature have systematically made direct comparisons between skinned and intact systems taken from the same species under optimally similar conditions (see the selection listed in

Imaging cell biology in live animals: Ready for prime time

Time-lapse fluorescence microscopy is one of the main tools used to image subcellular structures in living cells. Yet for decades it has been applied primarily to in vitro model systems. Thanks to the most recent advancements in intravital microscopy, this approach has finally been extended to live rodents. This represents a major breakthrough that will provide unprecedented new opportunities to study mammalian cell biology in vivo and has already provided new insight in the fields of neurobiology, immunology, and cancer biology.The discovery of GFP combined with the ability to engineer its expression in living cells has revolutionized mammalian cell biology (Chalfie et al., 1994). Since its introduction, several light microscopy–based techniques have become invaluable tools to investigate intracellular events (Lippincott-Schwartz, 2011). Among them are: time-lapse confocal microscopy, which has been instrumental in studying the dynamics of cellular and subcellular processes (Hirschberg et al., 1998; Jakobs, 2006; Cardarelli and Gratton, 2010); FRAP, which has enabled determining various biophysical properties of proteins in living cells (Berkovich et al., 2011); and fluorescence resonance energy transfer (FRET), which has been used to probe for protein–protein interactions and the local activation of specific signaling pathways (Balla, 2009). The continuous search for improvements in temporal and spatial resolution has led to the development of more sophisticated technologies, such as spinning disk microscopy, which allows the resolution of fast cellular events that occur on the order of milliseconds (Nakano, 2002); total internal reflection microscopy (TIRF), which enables imaging events in close proximity (100 nm) to the plasma membrane (Cocucci et al., 2012); and super-resolution microscopy (SIM, PALM, and STORM), which captures images with resolution higher than the diffraction limit of light (Lippincott-Schwartz, 2011).Most of these techniques have been primarily applied to in vitro model systems, such as cells grown on solid substrates or in 3D matrices, explanted embryos, and organ cultures. These systems, which are relatively easy to maintain and to manipulate either pharmacologically or genetically, have been instrumental in providing fundamental information about cellular events down to the molecular level. However, they often fail to reconstitute the complex architecture and physiology of multicellular tissues in vivo. Indeed, in a live organism, cells exhibit a 3D organization, interact with different cell types, and are constantly exposed to a multitude of signals originated from the vasculature, the central nervous system, and the extracellular environment. For this reason, scientists have been attracted by the possibility of imaging biological processes in live multicellular organisms (i.e., intravital microscopy [IVM]). The first attempt in this direction was in 1839, when Rudolph Wagner described the interaction of leukocytes with the walls of blood vessels in the webbed feet of a live frog by using bright-field transillumination (Wagner, 1839). Since then, this approach has been used for over a century to study vascular biology in thin areas of surgically exposed organs (Irwin and MacDonald, 1953; Zweifach, 1954) or by implanting optical windows in the skin or the ears (Clark and Clark, 1932). In addition, cell migration has also been investigated using transparent tissues, such as the fin of the teleost (Wood and Thorogood, 1984; Thorogood and Wood, 1987). The introduction of epifluorescence microscopy has enabled following in more detail the dynamics of individual cells in circulation (Nuttall, 1987), in tumors (MacDonald et al., 1992), or in the immune system (von Andrian, 1996), and the spatial resolution has been significantly improved by the use of confocal microscopy, which has made it possible to collect serial optical sections from a given specimen (Villringer et al., 1989; O’Rourke and Fraser, 1990; Jester et al., 1991). However, these techniques can resolve structures only within a few micrometers from the surface of optically opaque tissues (Masedunskas et al., 2012a). It was only in the early nineteen nineties, with the development of multiphoton microscopy, that deep tissue imaging has become possible (Denk et al., 1990; Zipfel et al., 2003b), significantly contributing to several fields, including neurobiology, immunology, and cancer biology (Fig. 1; Svoboda and Yasuda, 2006; Amornphimoltham et al., 2011; Beerling et al., 2011). In the last few years, the development of strategies to minimize the motion artifacts caused by the heartbeat and respiration has made it possible to successfully image subcellular structures with spatial and temporal resolutions comparable to those achieved in in vitro model systems, thus providing the opportunity to study cell biology in live mammalian tissues (Fig. 1; Weigert et al., 2010; Pittet and Weissleder, 2011).Open in a separate windowFigure 1.Spatial resolution and current applications of intravital microscopy. IVM provides the opportunity to image several biological processes in live animals at different levels of resolution. Low-magnification objectives (5–10×) enable visualizing tissues and their components under physiological conditions and measuring their response under pathological conditions. Particularly, the dynamics of the vasculature have been one of topic most extensively studied by IVM. Objectives with higher magnification (20–30×) have enabled imaging the behavior of individual cell over long periods of time. This has led to major breakthroughs in fields such as neurobiology, immunology, cancer biology, and stem cell research. Finally, the recent developments of strategies to minimize the motion artifacts caused by the heartbeat and respiration combined with high power lenses (60–100×) have opened the door to image subcellular structures and to study cell biology in live animals.The aim of this review is to highlight the power of IVM in addressing cell biological questions that cannot be otherwise answered in vitro, due to the intrinsic limitations of reductionist models, or by other more classical approaches. Furthermore, we discuss limitations and areas for improvement of this imaging technique, hoping to provide cell biologists with the basis to assess whether IVM is the appropriate choice to address their scientific questions.

Imaging techniques currently used to perform intravital microscopy

Confocal and two-photon microscopy are the most widely used techniques to perform IVM. Confocal microscopy, which is based on single photon excitation, is a well-established technique (Fig. 2 A) that has been extensively discussed elsewhere (Wilson, 2002); hence we will only briefly describe some of the main features of two-photon microscopy and other nonlinear optical techniques.Open in a separate windowFigure 2.Fluorescent light microscopy imaging techniques used for intravital microscopy. (A) Confocal microscopy. (top) In confocal microscopy, a fluorophore absorbs a single photon with a wavelength in the UV-visible range of the spectrum (blue arrow). After a vibrational relaxation (orange curved arrow), a photon with a wavelength shifted toward the red is emitted (green arrow). (center) In thick tissue, excitation and emission occur in a relative large volume around the focal plane (F.P.). The off-focus emissions are eliminated through a pinhole, and the signal from the focal plane is detected via a photomultiplier (PMT). Confocal microscopy enables imaging at a maximal depth to 80–100 µm. (bottom) Confocal z stack of the tongue of a mouse expressing the membrane marker m-GFP (green) in the K14-positive basal epithelial layer, and the membrane marker mTomato in the endothelium (red). The xy view shows a maximal projection of 40 z slices acquired every 2.5 µm, whereas the xz view shows a lateral view of the stack. In blue are the nuclei labeled by a systemic injection of Hoechst. Excitation wavelengths: 450 nm, 488 nm, and 562 nm. (B) Two- and three-photon microscopy. (top) In this process a fluorophore absorbs almost simultaneously two or three photons that have half (red arrow) or a third (dark red arrow) of the energy required for its excitation with a single photon. Two- or three-photon excitations typically require near-IR or IR light (from 690 to 1,600 nm). (center) Emission and excitation occur only at the focal plane in a restricted volume (1.5 fl), and for this reason a pinhole is not required. Two- and three-photon microscopy enable imaging routinely at a maximal depth of 300–500 µm. (bottom) Two-photon z stack of an area adjacent to that imaged in A. xy view shows a maximal projection of 70 slices acquired every 5 µm. xz view shows a lateral view of the stack. Excitation wavelength: 840 nm. (C) SHG and THG. (top) In SHG and THG, photons interact with the specimen and combine to form new photons that are emitted with twice or three times their initial energy without any energy loss. (center) These processes have similar features to those described for two- and three-photon microscopy and enable imaging at a maximal depth of 200–400 µm. (bottom) z stack of a rat heart excited by two-photon microscopy (740 nm) to reveal the parenchyma (green), and SHG (930 nm) to reveal collagen fibers (red). xy shows a maximal projection of 20 slices acquired every 5 µm. xz view shows a lateral view of the stack. Bars: (xy views) 40 µm; (xz views) 50 µm.The first two-photon microscope (Denk et al., 1990) was based on the principle of two-photon excitation postulated by Maria Göppert-Mayer in her PhD thesis (Göppert-Mayer, 1931). In this process a fluorophore is excited by the simultaneous absorption of two photons with wavelengths in the near-infrared (IR) or IR spectrum (from 690 to 1,600 nm; Fig. 2 B). Two-photon excitation requires high-intensity light that is provided by lasers generating very short pulses (in the femtosecond range) and is focused on the excitation spot by high numerical aperture lenses (Zipfel et al., 2003b). There are three main advantages in using two-photon excitation for IVM. First, IR light has a deeper tissue penetration than UV or visible light (Theer and Denk, 2006). Indeed, two-photon microscopy can resolve structures up to a depth of 300–500 µm in most of the tissues (Fig. 2 B), and up to 1.5 mm in the brain (Theer et al., 2003; Masedunskas et al., 2012a), whereas confocal microscopy is limited to 80–100 µm (Fig. 2 A). Second, the excitation is restricted to a very small volume (1.5 fl; Fig. 2 B). This implies that in two-photon microscopy there is no need to eliminate off-focus signals, and that under the appropriate conditions photobleaching and phototoxicity are negligible (Zipfel et al., 2003b). However, confocal microscopy induces out-of-focus photodamage, and thus is less suited for long-term imaging. Third, selected endogenous molecules can be excited, thus providing the contrast to visualize specific biological structures without the need for exogenous labeling (Zipfel et al., 2003a). Some of these molecules can also be excited by confocal microscopy using UV light, although with the risk of inducing photodamage.More recently, other nonlinear optical techniques have been used for IVM, and among them are three-photon excitation, and second and third harmonic generation (SHG and THG; Campagnola and Loew, 2003; Zipfel et al., 2003b; Oheim et al., 2006). Three-photon excitation follows the same principle as two-photon (Fig. 2 B), and can reveal endogenous molecules such as serotonin and melatonin (Zipfel et al., 2003a; Ritsma et al., 2013). In SHG and THG, photons interact with the specimen and combine to form new photons that are emitted with two or three times their initial energy (Fig. 2 C). SHG reveals collagen (Fig. 2 C) and myosin fibers (Campagnola and Loew, 2003), whereas THG reveals lipid droplets and myelin fibers (Débarre et al., 2006; Weigelin et al., 2012). Recently, two other techniques have been used for IVM: coherent anti-Stokes Raman scattering (CARS) and fluorescence lifetime imaging (FLIM). CARS that is based on two laser beams combined to match the energy gap between two vibrational levels of the molecule of interest, has been used to image lipids and myelin fibers (Müller and Zumbusch, 2007; Fu et al., 2008; Le et al., 2010). FLIM, which measures the lifetime that a molecule spends in the excited state, provides quantitative information on cellular parameters such as pH, oxygen levels, ion concentration, and the metabolic state of various biomolecules (Levitt et al., 2009; Provenzano et al., 2009; Bakker et al., 2012).We want to emphasize that two-photon microscopy and the other nonlinear techniques are the obligatory choice when the imaging area is located deep inside the tissue, endogenous molecules have to be imaged, or long-term imaging with frequent sampling is required. However, confocal microscopy is more suited to resolve structures in the micrometer range, because of the possibility of modulating the optical slice (Masedunskas et al., 2012a).

IVM to investigate biological processes at the tissue and the single cell level

The main strength of IVM is to provide information on the dynamics of biological processes that otherwise cannot be reconstituted in vitro or ex vivo. Indeed, IVM has been instrumental in studying several aspects of tissue physiopathology (Fig. 3, A and B). Although other approaches such as classical immunohistochemistry, electron microscopy, and indirect immunofluorescence may provide detailed structural and quantitative information on blood vessels, IVM enables measuring events such as variations of blood flow at the level of the capillaries or local changes in blood vessel permeability. These data have been instrumental in understanding the mechanisms of ischemic diseases and tumor progression, and in designing effective anticancer treatments.

Table 1.

IVM to study tissue physiopathology

Variation in Adult Plant Phenotypes and Partitioning among Seed and Stem-Borne Roots across Brachypodium distachyon Accessions to Exploit in Breeding Cereals for Well-Watered and Drought Environments

Seedling roots enable plant establishment. Their small phenotypes are measured routinely. Adult root systems are relevant to yield and efficiency, but phenotyping is challenging. Root length exceeds the volume of most pots. Field studies measure partial adult root systems through coring or use seedling roots as adult surrogates. Here, we phenotyped 79 diverse lines of the small grass model Brachypodium distachyon to adults in 50-cm-long tubes of soil with irrigation; a subset of 16 lines was droughted. Variation was large (total biomass, ×8; total root length [TRL], ×10; and root mass ratio, ×6), repeatable, and attributable to genetic factors (heritabilities ranged from approximately 50% for root growth to 82% for partitioning phenotypes). Lines were dissected into seed-borne tissues (stem and primary seminal axile roots) and stem-borne tissues (tillers and coleoptile and leaf node axile roots) plus branch roots. All lines developed one seminal root that varied, with branch roots, from 31% to 90% of TRL in the well-watered condition. With drought, 100% of TRL was seminal, regardless of line because nodal roots were almost always inhibited in drying topsoil. Irrigation stimulated nodal roots depending on genotype. Shoot size and tillers correlated positively with roots with irrigation, but partitioning depended on genotype and was plastic with drought. Adult root systems of B. distachyon have genetic variation to exploit to increase cereal yields through genes associated with partitioning among roots and their responsiveness to irrigation. Whole-plant phenotypes could enhance gain for droughted environments because root and shoot traits are coselected.Adult plant root systems are relevant to the size and efficiency of seed yield. They supply water and nutrients for the plant to acquire biomass, which is positively correlated to the harvest index (allocation to seed grain), and the stages of flowering and grain development. Modeling in wheat (Triticum aestivum) suggested that an extra 10 mm of water absorbed by such adult root systems during grain filling resulted in an increase of approximately 500 kg grain ha⁻¹ (Manschadi et al., 2006). This was 25% above the average annual yield of wheat in rain-fed environments of Australia. This number was remarkably close to experimental data obtained in the field in Australia (Kirkegaard et al., 2007). Together, these modeling and field experiments have shown that adult root systems are critical for water absorption and grain yield in cereals, such as wheat, emphasizing the importance of characterizing adult root systems to identify phenotypes for productivity improvements.Most root phenotypes, however, have been described for seedling roots. Seedling roots are essential for plant establishment, and hence, the plant’s potential to set seed. For technical reasons, seedlings are more often screened than adult plants because of the ease of handling smaller plants and the high throughput. Seedling-stage phenotyping may also improve overall reproducibility of results because often, growth media are soil free. Seedling soil-free root phenotyping conditions are well suited to dissecting fine and sensitive mechanisms, such as lateral root initiation (Casimiro et al., 2003; Péret et al., 2009a, 2009b). A number of genes underlying root processes have been identified or characterized using seedlings, notably with the dicotyledonous models Arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana; Mouchel et al., 2004; Fitz Gerald et al., 2006; Yokawa et al., 2013) and Medicago truncatula (Laffont et al., 2010) and the cereals maize (Zea mays; Hochholdinger et al., 2001) and rice (Oryza sativa; Inukai et al., 2005; Kitomi et al., 2008).Extrapolation from seedling to adult root systems presents major questions (Hochholdinger and Zimmermann, 2008; Chochois et al., 2012; Rich and Watt, 2013). Are phenotypes in seedling roots present in adult roots given developmental events associated with aging? Is expression of phenotypes correlated in seedling and adult roots if time compounds effects of growth rates and growth conditions on roots? Watt et al. (2013) showed in wheat seedlings that root traits in the laboratory and field correlated positively but that neither correlated with adult root traits in the field. Factors between seedling and adult roots seemed to be differences in developmental stage and the time that growing roots experience the environment.Seedling and adult root differences may be larger in grasses than dicotyledons. Grass root systems have two developmental components: seed-borne (seminal) roots, of which a number emerge at germination and continue to grow and branch throughout the plant life, and stem-borne (nodal or adventitious) roots, which emerge from around the three-leaf stage and continue to emerge, grow, and branch throughout the plant life. Phenotypes and traits of adult root systems of grasses, which include the major cereal crops wheat, rice, and maize, are difficult to predict in seedling screens and ideally identified from adult root systems first (Gamuyao et al., 2012).Phenotyping of adult roots is possible in the field using trenches (Maeght et al., 2013) or coring (Wasson et al., 2014). A portion of the root system is captured with these methods. Alternatively, entire adult root systems can be contained within pots dug into the ground before sowing. These need to be large; field wheat roots, for example, can reach depths greater than 1.5 m depending on genotype and environment. This method prevents root-root interactions that occur under normal field sowing of a plant canopy and is also a compromise.A solution to the problem of phenotyping adult cereal root systems is a model for monocotyledon grasses: Brachypodium distachyon. B. distachyon is a small-stature grass with a small genome that is fully sequenced (Vogel et al., 2010). It has molecular tools equivalent to those available in Arabidopsis (Draper et al., 2001; Brkljacic et al., 2011; Mur et al., 2011). The root system of B. distachyon reference line Bd21 is more similar to wheat than other model and crop grasses (Watt et al., 2009). It has a seed-borne primary seminal root (PSR) that emerges from the embryo at seed germination and multiple stem-borne coleoptile node axile roots (CNRs) and leaf node axile roots (LNRs), also known as crown roots or adventitious roots, that emerge at about three leaves through to grain development. Branch roots emerge from all root types. There are no known anatomical differences between root types of wheat and B. distachyon (Watt et al., 2009). In a recent study, we report postflowering root growth in B. distachyon line Bd21-3, showing that this model can be used to answer questions relevant to the adult root systems of grasses (Chochois et al., 2012).In this study, we used B. distachyon to identify adult plant phenotypes related to the partitioning among seed-borne and stem-borne shoots and roots for the genetic improvement of well-watered and droughted cereals (Fig. 1; Krassovsky, 1926; Navara et al., 1994), nitrogen, phosphorus (Tennant, 1976; Brady et al., 1995), oxygen (Wiengweera and Greenway, 2004), soil hardness (Acuna et al., 2007), and microorganisms (Sivasithamparam et al., 1978). Of note is the study by Krassovsky (1926), which was the first, to our knowledge, to show differences in function related to water. Krassovsky (1926) showed that seminal roots of wheat absorbed almost 2 times the water as nodal roots per unit dry weight but that nodal roots absorbed a more diluted nutrient solution than seminal roots. Krassovsky (1926) also showed by removing seminal or nodal roots as they emerged that “seminal roots serve the main stem, while nodal roots serve the tillers” (Krassovsky, 1926). Volkmar (1997) showed, more recently, in wheat that nodal and seminal roots may sense and respond to drought differently. In millet (Pennisetum glaucum) and sorghum (Sorghum bicolor), Rostamza et al. (2013) found that millet was able to grow nodal roots in a dryer soil than sorghum, possibly because of shoot and root vigor.Open in a separate windowFigure 1.B. distachyon plant scanned at the fourth leaf stage, with the root and shoot phenotypes studied indicated. Supplemental Table S1.

Mouse Models of Osteoarthritis: A Summary of Models and Outcomes Assessment

Osteoarthritis (OA) is a multidimensional health problem and a common chronic disease. It has a substantial impact on patient quality of life and is a common cause of pain and mobility issues in older adults. The functional limitations, lack of curative treatments, and cost to society all demonstrate the need for translational and clinical research. The use of OA models in mice is important for achieving a better understanding of the disease. Models with clinical relevance are needed to achieve 2 main goals: to assess the impact of the OA disease (pain and function) and to study the efficacy of potential treatments. However, few OA models include practical strategies for functional assessment of the mice. OA signs in mice incorporate complex interrelations between pain and dysfunction. The current review provides a comprehensive compilation of mouse models of OA and animal evaluations that include static and dynamic clinical assessment of the mice, merging evaluation of pain and function by using automatic and noninvasive techniques. These new techniques allow simultaneous recording of spontaneous activity from thousands of home cages and also monitor environment conditions. Technologies such as videography and computational approaches can also be used to improve pain assessment in rodents but these new tools must first be validated experimentally. An example of a new tool is the digital ventilated cage, which is an automated home-cage monitor that records spontaneous activity in the cages.

Osteoarthritis (OA) is a multidimensional health problem and a common chronic disease.³⁶ Functional limitations, the absence of curative treatments, and the considerable cost to society result in a substantial impact on quality of life.⁷⁶ Historically, OA has been described as whole joint and whole peri-articular diseases and as a systemic comorbidity.^9,111 OA consists of a disruption of articular joint cartilage homeostasis leading to a catabolic pathway characterized by chondrocyte degeneration and destruction of the extracellular matrix (ECM). Low-grade chronic systemic inflammation is also actively involved in the process.^42,92 In clinical practice, mechanical pain, often accompanied by a functional decline, is the main reason for consultations. Recommendations to patients provide guidance for OA management.^{22, 33,49,86} Evidence-based consensus has led to a variety of pharmacologic and nonpharmacologic modalities that are intended to guide health care providers in managing symptomatic patients. Animal-based research is of tremendous importance for the study of early diagnosis and treatment, which are crucial to prevent the disease progression and provide better care to patients.The purpose of animal-based OA research is 2-fold: to assess the impact of the OA disease (pain and function) and to study the efficacy of a potential treatment.^18,67 OA model species include large animals such as the horse, goat, sheep, and dog, whose size and anatomy are expected to better reflect human joint conditions. However, small animals such as guinea pig, rabbit, mouse, and rat represent 77% of the species used.^1,87 In recent years, mice have become the most commonly used model for studying OA. Mice have several advantageous characteristics: a short development and life span, easy and low-cost breeding and maintenance, easy handling, small joints that allow histologic analysis of the whole joint,³² and the availability of genetically modified lines.¹⁰⁸ Standardized housing, genetically defined strains and SPF animals reduce the genetic and interindividual acquired variability. Mice are considered the best vertebrate model in terms of monitoring and controlling environmental conditions.^7,14,15,87 Mouse skeletal maturation is reached at 10 wk, which theoretically constitutes the minimal age at which mice should be entered into an OA study.^64,87,102 However, many studies violate this limit by testing mice at 8 wk of age.Available models for OA include the following (32,111 physical activity and exercise induced OA; noninvasive mechanical loading (repetitive mild loading and single-impact injury); and surgically induced (meniscectomy models or anterior cruciate ligament transection). The specific model used would be based on the goal of the study.⁷ For example, OA pathophysiology, OA progression, and OA therapies studies could use spontaneous, genetic, surgical, or noninvasive models. In addition, pain studies could use chemical models. Lastly, post-traumatic studies would use surgical or noninvasive models; the most frequently used method is currently destabilization of the medial meniscus,³² which involves transection of the medial meniscotibial ligament, thereby destabilizing the joint and causing instability-driven OA. An important caveat for mouse models is that the mouse and human knee differ in terms of joint size, joint biomechanics, and histologic characteristics (layers, cellularity),^32,64 and joint differences could confound clinical translation.¹⁰ Table 1. Mouse models of osteoarthritis.

Ion channel regulation by protein S-acylation

Protein S-acylation, the reversible covalent fatty-acid modification of cysteine residues, has emerged as a dynamic posttranslational modification (PTM) that controls the diversity, life cycle, and physiological function of numerous ligand- and voltage-gated ion channels. S-acylation is enzymatically mediated by a diverse family of acyltransferases (zDHHCs) and is reversed by acylthioesterases. However, for most ion channels, the dynamics and subcellular localization at which S-acylation and deacylation cycles occur are not known. S-acylation can control the two fundamental determinants of ion channel function: (1) the number of channels resident in a membrane and (2) the activity of the channel at the membrane. It controls the former by regulating channel trafficking and the latter by controlling channel kinetics and modulation by other PTMs. Ion channel function may be modulated by S-acylation of both pore-forming and regulatory subunits as well as through control of adapter, signaling, and scaffolding proteins in ion channel complexes. Importantly, cross-talk of S-acylation with other PTMs of both cysteine residues by themselves and neighboring sites of phosphorylation is an emerging concept in the control of ion channel physiology. In this review, I discuss the fundamentals of protein S-acylation and the tools available to investigate ion channel S-acylation. The mechanisms and role of S-acylation in controlling diverse stages of the ion channel life cycle and its effect on ion channel function are highlighted. Finally, I discuss future goals and challenges for the field to understand both the mechanistic basis for S-acylation control of ion channels and the functional consequence and implications for understanding the physiological function of ion channel S-acylation in health and disease.Ion channels are modified by the attachment to the channel protein of a wide array of small signaling molecules. These include phosphate groups (phosphorylation), ubiquitin (ubiquitination), small ubiquitin-like modifier (SUMO) proteins (SUMOylation), and various lipids (lipidation). Such PTMs are critical for controlling the physiological function of ion channels through regulation of the number of ion channels resident in the (plasma) membrane; their activity, kinetics, and modulation by other PTMs; or their interaction with other proteins. S-acylation is one of a group of covalent lipid modifications (Resh, 2013). However, unlike N-myristoylation and prenylation (which includes farnesylation and geranylgeranylation), S-acylation is reversible (Fig. 1). Because of the labile thioester bond, S-acylation thus represents a dynamic lipid modification to spatiotemporally control protein function. The most common form of S-acylation, the attachment of the C16 lipid palmitate to proteins (referred to as S-palmitoylation), was first described more than 30 years ago in the transmembrane glycoprotein of the vesicular stomatitis virus and various mammalian membrane proteins (Schmidt and Schlesinger, 1979; Schlesinger et al., 1980). A decade later, S-acylated ion channels—rodent voltage-gated sodium channels (Schmidt and Catterall, 1987) and the M2 ion channel from the influenza virus (Sugrue et al., 1990)—were first characterized. Since then, more than 50 distinct ion channel subunits have been experimentally demonstrated to be S-acylated (El-Husseini and Bredt, 2002; Linder and Deschenes, 2007; Fukata and Fukata, 2010; Greaves and Chamberlain, 2011; Resh, 2012). In the last few years, with the cloning of enzymes controlling S-acylation and development of various proteomic tools, we have begun to gain substantial mechanistic and physiological insight into how S-acylation may control multiple facets of the life cycle of ion channels: from their assembly, through their trafficking and regulation at the plasma membrane, to their final degradation (Fig. 2).Open in a separate windowFigure 1.Protein S-acylation: a reversible lipid posttranslational modification of proteins. (A) Major lipid modifications of proteins. S-acylation is reversible due to the labile thioester bond between the lipid (typically, but not exclusively, palmitate) and the cysteine amino acid of is target protein. Other lipid modifications result from stable bond formation between either the N-terminal amino acid (amide) or the amino acid side chain in the protein (thioether and oxyester). The zDHHC family of palmitoyl acyltransferases mediates S-acylation with other enzyme families controlling other lipid modifications: N-methyltransferase (NMT) controls myristoylation of many proteins such as the src family kinase, Fyn kinase; and amide-linked palmitoylation of the secreted sonic hedgehog protein is mediated by Hedgehog acyltransferase (Hhat), a membrane-bound O-acyl transferase (MBOAT) family. Prenyl transferases catalyze farnesyl (farnesyltransferase, FTase) or geranylgeranyl (geranylgeranyl transferase I [GGTase I] and geranylgeranyl transferase II [GGTase II]) in small GTPase proteins such as RAS and the Rab proteins, respectively. Porcupine (Porcn) is a member of the MBOAT family acylates secreted proteins such as Wnt. (B) zDHHC enzymes typically use coenzyme A (CoA)-palmitate; however, other long chain fatty acids (either saturated or desaturated) can also be used. Deacylation is mediated by several acylthioesterases of the serine hydrolase family. (C) zDHHC acyltransferases (23 in humans) are predicted transmembrane proteins (typically with 4 or 6 transmembrane domains) with the catalytic DHHC domain located in a cytosolic loop.

Table 1.

Pore-forming subunits of ion channels experimentally determined to be S-acylated

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 (Standard nameFormer namesYeast ORFReferencesComplexMICOSMINOS, MitOS, MIB, Mitofilin complex, and Fcj1 complexXie et al., 2007; Rabl et al., 2009; 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; Ott et al., 2012; Jans et al., 2013; Weber et al., 2013SubunitsMic10Mcs10, Mio10, Mos1, and MINOS1YCL057C-AHarner et al., 2011; Hoppins et al., 2011; von der Malsburg et al., 2011; Alkhaja et al., 2012; Itoh et al., 2013; Jans et al., 2013; Varabyova et al., 2013Mic12Aim5, Fmp51, and Mcs12YBR262CHess et al., 2009; Harner et al., 2011; Hoppins et al., 2011; von der Malsburg et al., 2011; Varabyova et al., 2013Mic19Aim13, Mcs19, CHCH-3, CHCHD3, and MINOS3YFR011CXie et al., 2007; Hess et al., 2009; Darshi et al., 2011; Head et al., 2011; Alkhaja et al., 2012; Ott et al., 2012; Jans et al., 2013; Varabyova et al., 2013Mic25 (metazoan Mic19 homologue)CHCHD6 and CHCM1Xie et al., 2007; An et al., 2012Mic26Mcs29, Mio27, and Mos2YGR235CHarner et al., 2011; Hoppins et al., 2011; von der Malsburg et al., 2011Mic27Aim37, Mcs27, APOOL, and MOMA-1YNL100WHess et al., 2009; Harner et al., 2011; Head et al., 2011; Hoppins et al., 2011; von der Malsburg et al., 2011; Weber et al., 2013Mic60Fcj1, Aim28, Fmp13, Mitofilin, HMP, IMMT, and MINOS2YKR016WIcho et al., 1994; Odgren et al., 1996; Gieffers et al., 1997; John et al., 2005; Wang et al., 2008; Rabl et al., 2009; Rossi et al., 2009; Mun et al., 2010; Park et al., 2010; Körner et al., 2012; Zerbes et al., 2012; Itoh et al., 2013; Varabyova et al., 2013Open in a separate windowAPOOL, apolipoprotein O–like; HMP, heart muscle protein; IMMT, inner mitochondrial membrane protein; MIB, mitochondrial intermembrane space bridging.To rectify this situation, all authors of this article have agreed on a new uniform nomenclature with the following guidelines. (a) The complex will be called “mitochondrial contact site and cristae organizing system” (MICOS). The protein subunits of MICOS are named Mic10 to Mic60 as listed in Gabriel et al., 2007; Vögtle et al., 2012) will be changed to Mix14, Mix17, and Mix23 (mitochondrial intermembrane space CX_nC motif proteins) in the Saccharomyces Genome Database, and the new nomenclature will be used for orthologues identified in other organisms.The MICOS complex is of central importance for the maintenance of mitochondrial inner membrane architecture and the formation of contact sites between outer and inner membranes and thus is involved in the regulation of mitochondrial dynamics, biogenesis, and inheritance. We expect that the uniform nomenclature will facilitate future studies on mitochondrial membrane architecture and dynamics.     

The Golgi and the centrosome: building a functional partnership

The mammalian Golgi apparatus is characterized by a ribbon-like organization adjacent to the centrosome during interphase and extensive fragmentation and dispersal away from the centrosome during mitosis. It is not clear whether this dynamic association between the Golgi and centrosome is of functional significance. We discuss recent findings indicating that the Golgi–centrosome relationship may be important for directional protein transport and centrosome positioning, which are both required for cell polarization. We also summarize our current knowledge of the link between Golgi organization and cell cycle progression.

Introduction

The Golgi apparatus plays a central role in the secretory pathway. Newly synthesized proteins are transported from the ER to the Golgi, where they are posttranslationally modified. They are sorted into carriers for delivery to the plasma membrane or the endosomal–lysosomal system. The basic structural unit of the Golgi apparatus is a stack of flattened cisternae that is morphologically conserved among most species. In mammalian cells, individual Golgi stacks are connected laterally to form a continuous membranous system called the Golgi ribbon, which is located in close physical proximity to the centrosome (Fig. 1, left).Open in a separate windowFigure 1.The spatial relationship between the Golgi and the centrosome during the mammalian cell cycle. Golgi (red, stained with antibodies to GM130) and centrosome (green, stained with antibodies to centrin) staining of nonsynchronized bone cancer cells (U2-OS) shows the physical proximity between these two organelles during interphase (left) and its temporary loss during mitosis (right). Bar, 10 µm.The centrosome functions as the major microtubule-organizing center of the cell and plays an important role in cell polarization and ciliogenesis (Bettencourt-Dias and Glover, 2007). In a newly formed daughter cell, this nonmembrane-bound organelle is composed of a pair of centrioles that is surrounded by a cloud of electron-dense material called the pericentriolar matrix. γ-Tubulin ring complexes (γ-TuRCs) in the pericentriolar matrix allow the centrosome to nucleate the radial array of interphase microtubules whose minus ends are embedded in the centrosome and whose plus ends extend toward the cell periphery. After centrosome duplication in S phase, the two centrosomes move to opposite poles of the cell and become the spindle poles from which spindle microtubules grow. Centrosomes are generally located in the cell center close to the nucleus, although this central position is lost in response to a polarization stimulus, which prompts centrosomes to reorient toward the leading edge of the cell (Pouthas et al., 2008). In most cell types, centrosome reorientation is critical for the ability of cells to polarize and migrate (Yvon et al., 2002). The centrosome is also linked to ciliogenesis because one of its centrioles is converted into the basal body from which a primary cilium extends (D''Angelo and Franco, 2009).The spatial relationship between the Golgi apparatus and the centrosome is altered by changes in Golgi organization that occur during the cell cycle (Fig. 1). These two organelles are only adjacent in interphase when the Golgi apparatus is arranged as a ribbon in the pericentriolar region (Colanzi et al., 2003). In contrast, Golgi membranes are fragmented and dispersed throughout the cytoplasm during mitosis. Intriguingly, the pericentriolar localization of the Golgi is a feature typical of some eukaryotic cells, ranging from mammalian and amphibian cells (Thyberg and Moskalewski, 1999; Reilein et al., 2003) to amoeba (Rehberg et al., 2005). However, other eukaryotes, including plants and flies, have isolated Golgi stacks (Stanley et al., 1997; Nebenführ and Staehelin, 2001) or isolated cisternae in the case of Saccharomyces cerevisiae that are scattered throughout the cytoplasm without an obvious connection with the centrosome (Preuss et al., 1992).In this paper, we review recent findings indicating that the relationship between the Golgi and the centrosome in interphase is important for cell polarization. We also summarize the current understanding of how Golgi–centrosome interactions during mitosis affect cell division.

Are there functional interactions between the Golgi and the centrosome during interphase?

Golgi membranes are actively positioned in the pericentriolar position.

The localization of the mammalian Golgi ribbon next to the centrosome requires the microtubule and actin cytoskeleton (Brownhill et al., 2009). Microtubules have a dual role in organizing the pericentriolar Golgi ribbon. First, the subset of microtubules that is nucleated at the Golgi is necessary for the assembly of Golgi fragments into a connected ribbon in the cell periphery (Miller et al., 2009). Second, centrosomal microtubules provide the tracks along which Golgi membranes are transported to the cell center (Cole et al., 1996). Both steps depend on the minus end–directed motor complex dynein (Burkhardt et al., 1997; Miller et al., 2009). The actin cytoskeleton is also involved in localizing Golgi membranes. Actin fibers, which have been detected at the Golgi complex, are required for the maintenance of the pericentriolar position of this organelle by providing tracks for actin-based motors (Valderrama et al., 1998; Sahlender et al., 2005; Vicente-Manzanares et al., 2007). Actin fibers and microtubules are coordinated by proteins that associate with both cytoskeletal elements such as WHAMM, a Golgi-bound actin-nucleating factor, and MACF1, a microtubule–actin cross-linking protein (Lin et al., 2005; Campellone et al., 2008).Golgi organization and localization in the pericentriolar region also depend on Golgi-associated proteins (Ramirez and Lowe, 2009). Their depletion produces defects in Golgi organization ranging from a disconnected Golgi ribbon in the pericentriolar region (Puthenveedu et al., 2006) to dispersed ministacks in the cytoplasm (Diao et al., 2003; Yadav et al., 2009).

Table I.

Golgi-associated proteins that control the pericentriolar position of the Golgi apparatus

The molecular evolution of function in the CFTR chloride channel

The ATP-binding cassette (ABC) transporter superfamily includes many proteins of clinical relevance, with genes expressed in all domains of life. Although most members use the energy of ATP binding and hydrolysis to accomplish the active import or export of various substrates across membranes, the cystic fibrosis transmembrane conductance regulator (CFTR) is the only known animal ABC transporter that functions primarily as an ion channel. Defects in CFTR, which is closely related to ABCC subfamily members that bear function as bona fide transporters, underlie the lethal genetic disease cystic fibrosis. This article seeks to integrate structural, functional, and genomic data to begin to answer the critical question of how the function of CFTR evolved to exhibit regulated channel activity. We highlight several examples wherein preexisting features in ABCC transporters were functionally leveraged as is, or altered by molecular evolution, to ultimately support channel function. This includes features that may underlie (1) construction of an anionic channel pore from an anionic substrate transport pathway, (2) establishment and tuning of phosphoregulation, and (3) optimization of channel function by specialized ligand–channel interactions. We also discuss how divergence and conservation may help elucidate the pharmacology of important CFTR modulators.

IntroductionThe ATP-binding cassette (ABC) transporter superfamily includes many members of clinical relevance, such as the multidrug resistance proteins (MRPs) and other proteins involved in generation of antibiotic resistance, transport of a wide variety of substrates in pathogenic bacteria, and transport of bile acids, lipids, and lipopolysaccharides (Ford and Beis, 2019; Jetter and Kullak-Ublick, 2020). ABC transporter genes encode the largest family of transmembrane (TM) proteins among living organisms (Briz et al., 2019) and are expressed in all domains of life (Ford and Beis, 2019; Holland et al., 2003). Either function or dysfunction of ABC transporters is implicated in development or treatment of cancer (Briz et al., 2019; Nobili et al., 2020), neurological disorders (Jha et al., 2019; Sumirtanurdin et al., 2019), detoxification (Briz et al., 2019), visual function (Garces et al., 2018), and, among many other clinical presentations (Moitra and Dean, 2011), in cystic fibrosis (CF; Riordan et al., 1989). In CF, mutations in the gene encoding CFTR lead to loss of anion transport in a wide variety of epithelial tissues (Csanády et al., 2019). In this review, we use the data generated from >30 yr of intensive structure-function study of CFTR and related proteins to propose and evaluate a potential route by which CFTR may have evolved unique function as a phosphorylation-regulated chloride channel. New insights are made possible by the advent of high-resolution cryo-EM structures of CFTR and the recent cloning and characterization of the evolutionarily oldest known orthologue of CFTR, from sea lamprey (Lp-CFTR; see below), which exhibits many functional differences from the human CFTR orthologue (hCFTR; Cui et al., 2019a).Overview of CFTRCFTR is a Cl⁻/HCO₃⁻ channel whose dysfunction directly leads to CF, the most common life-shortening genetic disease among Caucasians, affecting ∼80,000 individuals worldwide (Riordan et al., 1989; https://cftr2.org/mutations_history). The role of CFTR has been well characterized in airway, intestine, and sweat gland epithelial cells (Buchwald et al., 1991; Gonska et al., 2009; Haq et al., 2016; Quinton et al., 2012; Quinton, 2007; Trezíse and Buchwald, 1991), where the anionic flux mediated by the protein contributes to water secretion and regulation of pH (Pezzulo et al., 2012; Rowe et al., 2014). CFTR also functions in several nonepithelial cell types (Cook et al., 2016; Edlund et al., 2014; Gao and Su, 2015; Guo et al., 2014; Norez et al., 2014; Pohl et al., 2014; Schulz and Tümmler, 2016; Su et al., 2011), including in the brain (Ballerini et al., 2002; Guo et al., 2009; Hincke et al., 1995; Johannesson et al., 1997; Mulberg et al., 1995; Mulberg et al., 1998; Parkerson and Sontheimer, 2004; Pfister et al., 2015; Plog et al., 2010; Weyler et al., 1999). Several hundred disease-causing mutations have been identified in the CFTR gene. For a subset of these mutations, four small-molecule modulator therapeutics from Vertex Pharmaceuticals, Inc. that increase the surface expression or activity of CFTR have been approved for clinical use. The first approved drug, VX-770 (ivacaftor), is a gating potentiator that increases function of certain CFTR mutants (Cui et al., 2019b; Sosnay et al., 2013; Van Goor et al., 2009; Van Goor et al., 2014; Yu et al., 2012). A better understanding of these drugs and their binding sites may aid in refining the next class of therapeutics.ABC transporters use the energy of ATP binding and hydrolysis to accomplish the active import or export of various substrates across membranes (Rees et al., 2009). There are seven subfamilies of mammalian ABC transporters (ABCA, ABCB, ABCC,… ABCG), of which the E and F subfamilies do not bear actual transport function (Dean et al., 2001; Ford and Beis, 2019). A new classification of the ABC transporter superfamily that is based on the transmembrane domain (TMD) fold has recently been suggested (Thomas et al., 2020). CFTR is denoted ABCC7 and a member of type IV, respectively, according to these two classification schemes. CFTR bears ATPase activity like that of other ABCC subfamily members (Li et al., 1996; Stratford et al., 2007; Jordan et al., 2008), but biophysical methods have firmly established that CFTR functions as a phosphorylation-activated and ATP-gated ion channel (Anderson et al., 1991a; Anderson et al., 1991b; Bear et al., 1992; Berger et al., 1991; Sheppard et al., 1993), whereas its closest ABCC relatives function as multispecific exporters of organic anions (Jordan et al., 2008). CFTR may directly mediate the flux of glutathione (Gao et al., 1999; Kogan et al., 2003; Linsdell and Hanrahan, 1998), although CFTR-mediated active transport has not been shown, to our knowledge. Glutathione is transported by close ABCC relatives ABCC1/MRP1 (Mao et al., 1999) and ABCC4/MRP4 (Choi et al., 2001; Ko et al., 2002; Kogan et al., 2003; Ritter et al., 2005; Serrano et al., 2006); previous analysis has identified ABCC4 as CFTR’s closest relative (Jordan et al., 2008; see also Cui et al., 2019a). The domain organization of CFTR is similar to that of its closest relatives, the “short transporters” of the ABCC subfamily (Jordan et al., 2008; Ford and Beis, 2019; Srikant and Gaudet, 2019), with two nucleotide-binding domains (NBDs) that function in ATP binding and hydrolysis, and two TMDs, each containing six TM helices that comprise the substrate transport pathway (Fig. 1). However, unique to CFTR is an intracellular regulatory (R) domain that contains multiple consensus sites for phosphorylation by PKA (Sebastian et al., 2013).Open in a separate windowFigure 1.Domain architecture of CFTR. (A) Five functional domains: TMD1, NBD1, R domain with multiple phosphorylation sites, TMD2, and NBD2. Each TMD includes six transmembrane helices, numbered 1–12. The N-terminus includes the lasso motif (shown in pink), whereas the C-terminus includes a PDZ binding domain motif (yellow). (B) hCFTR from cryo-EM structure (PDB accession no. 6MSM). The R domain is not shown, because it is intrinsically unstructured.The opening of CFTR may be simplified to involve three sequential steps that have been uncovered via a combination of functional and structural data. First, PKA binds to (Mihályi et al., 2020) and phosphorylates (Rich et al., 1991) the aforementioned R domain, which results in loss of inhibitory interactions between that domain and the rest of the channel protein. Second, ATP binds to two sites at the interface of the cytoplasmic NBDs, which promotes a stable NBD dimer (Mense et al., 2006; Vergani et al., 2005). Finally, the wave of conformational changes associated with ATP-induced dimerization of the NBDs is transmitted to the pore domain, resulting in pore opening (Rahman et al., 2013; Simhaev et al., 2017; Sorum et al., 2015; Strickland et al., 2019). In related ABC exporters, ATP-dependent dimerization of the NBDs drives an overall transition from inward- to outward-facing conformation of the TMDs; this function was coopted by CFTR to drive ATP-induced channel opening (Fig. 2). At the level of individual residues, there is high conservation with transporters among amino acids in CFTR that are proposed to stabilize the inward-facing (closed) conformation in the absence of ATP (Wang et al., 2010; Wei et al., 2014; Wei et al., 2016), suggesting conservation of motifs integral to energetic signaling (Wang et al., 2014b; Wei et al., 2014; Wei et al., 2016). The close proximity of intracellular loops 2 and 4 (ICL2 and ICL4, respectively; Doshi et al., 2013; Wang et al., 2014b), constriction of the intracellular vestibule (Bai et al., 2011), and dilation of the extracellular vestibule, relative to the closed state, are all associated with channel opening (Beck et al., 2008; Infield et al., 2016; Norimatsu et al., 2012b; Rahman et al., 2013; Strickland et al., 2019). The CFTR pore opens in stages, requiring the sequential breaking and forming of intraprotein residue–residue interactions (Cui et al., 2013, 2014; Rahman et al., 2013), resulting in two subconductance states in addition to the full-conductance state (Gunderson and Kopito, 1995; Zhang et al., 2005a; Zhang et al., 2005b; Fig. 3). Using a particularly informative cysteine mutant at the outer vestibule, R334C-CFTR, the McCarty laboratory found that transitions between these subconductance states are highly dependent upon experimental conditions; for example, closing transitions almost always start from the s2 state in the presence of ATP, and transitions from s2 to f never occur in channels bound with the poorly hydrolyzable ATP analogue AMP-PNP (see also Langron et al., 2018), suggesting that this transition requires hydrolysis of nucleotide at the NBDs (Zhang et al., 2005a; Zhang et al., 2005b). Subconductance states are evident in recordings of WT CFTR from membrane patches and planar lipid bilayers, depending on experimental conditions, indicating that these represent inherent steps in gating of the channel pore (Gunderson and Kopito, 1995). In WT-hCFTR, this open pore is quite stable and does not close until ATP is hydrolyzed at the NBDs (Baukrowitz et al., 1994). Note that because CFTR displays three types of gating in one channel (phosphorylation-mediated, ligand-mediated, and pore-mediated gating), it serves as an exemplary target for studying the evolution of functional mechanisms within a single membrane protein.Open in a separate windowFigure 2.Hypothesis for emergence of channel function in CFTR. Modification of ATP-dependent transport activity in ABC transporters led to channel behavior, coopting the conformational changes necessary for unidirectional substrate transport in common ABC transporter systems. CFTR evolved features that break the alternating access cycle (solid-line arrows), enabling it to be open at both ends (box). Color scheme for major domains (again, lacking the R domain) is the same as in Fig. 1.Open in a separate windowFigure 3.Gating scheme for CFTR. Prephosphorylated channels are shown in the membrane (gray slab) with two TMDs (brown and dark blue) and two NBDs (green and light blue), with ATP (red circle) and ADP (yellow circle). ATP-dependent gating is shown as including NBD-mediated gating steps leading to pore gating between conductance levels. Here, we do not distinguish between s1 and s2 subconductance levels, because s1→s2 occurs very rapidly in WT-hCFTR.Natural history of the CFTR channel in vertebratesGiven the structural conservation among CFTR and ABC exporters noted above, and functional conservation in terms of ATP dependence, how CFTR evolved to function as an anion channel regulating passive ionic diffusion has been an enduring question (Srikant, 2020; Srikant et al., 2020). Molecular evolution studies are facilitated by the availability of many orthologues for the protein/gene of interest, spanning as much of the evolutionary record as possible. Currently, ∼300 CFTR orthologues are included in GenBank/UniProt, although not all of these are represented by expressible cDNA clones. Until very recently, the oldest CFTR orthologue known was from the dogfish shark, arising ∼150 million yr ago (MYA; Fig. 4; Marshall et al., 1991); this orthologue bears functional characteristics similar to those of hCFTR. However, reasoning that the identification of an earlier CFTR orthologue with altered structure/function would provide novel insight into the evolution of epithelial anion transport, the Gaggar and McCarty laboratories recently led an effort to clone and characterize the Lp-CFTR (Cui et al., 2019a), which arose ∼550 MYA (Smith et al., 2013). The identification of a CFTR orthologue in the jawless vertebrates establishes that CFTR exists across all vertebrates, predating the divergence of jawed and jawless vertebrates at the end of the Cambrian Period ∼488 MYA. Sequence analysis indicates 46% sequence identity and 65% sequence similarity between Lp-CFTR and hCFTR, which is much lower than that among jawed vertebrate CFTRs (jv-CFTRs) and includes surprising divergence in functionally relevant motifs. Accordingly, Lp-CFTR differs from hCFTR in multiple functional characteristics (Fig. 4). Thus, it cannot be automatically assumed that every position in CFTR that is unique in sea lamprey represents transitional change in the development of regulated channel activity. A good example in this regard is that of F508 in hCFTR, which is conserved across multiple ABC proteins but is leucine in lamprey (Cui et al., 2019a). Sorum et al. (2017) showed that replacing F508 with L in hCFTR significantly reduced its open probability. All known CFTRs other than Lp-CFTR and all known human ABCCs have F at this position, where the aromatic side chain is necessary for stabilizing the outward-facing state (Cui et al., 2006), so finding that this is substituted by a nonaromatic side chain in Lp-CFTR is mechanistically interesting and may represent a species-specific adaptation (Cui et al., 2019a).Open in a separate windowFigure 4.Simplified and truncated evolutionary tree for vertebrates. Green, common vertebrate ancestor; blue, jawless vertebrates; red and yellow, jawed vertebrates; yellow, mammals. CFTR orthologues studied in functional assays are shown underlined. (The time domain in this figure is not implied.)Table 1.Comparison of features between human and lamprey orthologues, focusing on three major domains of function: channel behavior, regulation, and modulation