Seemingly similar, two neurons show distinct styles as they interact with the same muscle partner
Picower Institute
July 7, 2020

A new study by MIT neuroscientists into how seemingly similar neuronal subtypes drive locomotion in the fruit fly revealed an unexpected diversity as the brain’s commands were relayed to muscle fibers. A sequence of experiments revealed a dramatic difference between the two nerve cells – one neuron scrambled to adjust to different changes by the other, but received no requital in response when circumstances were reversed.

The findings published in the Journal of Neuroscience suggest that these subclasses of neurons, which are also found abundantly in people and many other animals, exhibit a previously unappreciated diversity in their propensity to respond to changes, a key property known as “synaptic plasticity.” Synaptic plasticity is considered an essential mechanism of how learning and memory occur in the brain, and aberrations in of the process are likely central to disorders such as autism.

“By seeing that these two different types of motor neurons actually show very distinct types of plasticity, that’s exciting because it means it’s not just one thing happening,” said senior author Troy Littleton, a member of The Picower Institute for Learning and Memory and Menicon Professor of Neuroscience in MIT’s Departments of Biology and of Brain and Cognitive Sciences. “There’s multiple types of things that can be altered to change connectivity within the neuromuscular system.”

Tonic and phasic neurons

Both of the neurons work in the same way, by emitting the neurotransmitter glutamate onto their connections, or synapses, with the muscles. But these two neurons do so with different styles. The “tonic” neuron, which connects only to a single muscle, emits its glutamate at a constant but low rate while the muscle is active. Meanwhile, the “phasic” neuron connects to a whole group of muscles and jumps in with a strong quick pulse of activity to spring the muscles into action.

Heading into the study Littleton and lead author Nicole Aponte-Santiago were curious to explore whether these different neurons compete or cooperate to drive the muscle fibers, and if they exhibited different plasticity when their functions were altered. To get started on what ultimately became her dissertation research, Aponte-Santiago developed the means to tailor genetic alterations specifically in each of the two neurons.

“The reason we were able to answer these questions in the first place was because we produced tools to start differentially manipulating one neuron versus the other one, or label one versus the other one,” said Aponte-Santiago, who earned her PhD in Littleton’s lab earlier this spring and is now a postdoc at the University of California at San Francisco.

With genetic access to each neuron, Aponte-Santiago distinctly labeled them to watch each one grow in fly larvae as they developed. She saw that the tonic neuron reached the muscle first and that the phasic one connected to the muscle later. She also observed that unlike in mammals, the neurons did not compete to control the muscle but remained side by side, each contributing in its characteristic way to the total electrical activity needed to drive movement.

To study the neurons’ plasticity, Aponte-Santiago employed two manipulations of each neuron. She either wiped them out completely by making them express a lethal protein called “reaper” or she substantially tamped down their glutamate activity via expression of tetanus toxin.

When she wiped out the phasic neuron with reaper, the tonic neuron quickly stepped up its signaling, attempting to compensate as much as it could. But in flies where she wiped out the tonic neuron, the phasic neuron didn’t budge at all, continuing as if nothing had changed.

Similarly when Aponte-Santiago reduced the activity of the phasic neuron with the toxin, the tonic neuron increased the number of boutons and active zone structures in its synapses to respond to the loss of its partner. But when she reduced the activity of the tonic neuron the phasic neuron again didn’t appear to respond.

In all the experiments, the muscle received less overall drive from the neurons than when everything was normal. And while the phasic neuron  apparently didn’t bother to make up for any loss on the part of the tonic neuron, the tonic neuron employed different means to compensate – either increasing its signaling or by enhancing the number of its connections on the muscle – depending on how the phasic neuron was diminished.

“It was quite intriguing that Nicole found that when the phasic input wasn’t there, there was a unique form of plasticity that the tonic neuron showed,” Littleton said, “but if the phasic neuron was there and wasn’t working, the tonic neuron behaved in a very different way.”

Another intriguing aspect of the study is the role of the muscle itself, which may be an active intermediary of the plasticity, Littleton said. The neurons may not sense when each other have been wiped out or inactivated. Instead the muscle appears to call for those changes.

“Even though a muscle has two distinct inputs, it can sort of uniquely control those two,” Littleton said. “When the muscle is getting glutamate, does it know whether it is coming from the tonic or the phasic neuron and does it care? It appears that it does care, that it really needs the tonic more than the phasic. When the phasic is gone it shifts some of the plasticity, but when the tonic is gone the phasic can’t do much about it.”

In new work, the lab is now looking at differences in gene expression between the two neurons to identify which proteins are responsible for the unique properties and plasticity of the tonic and phasic neurons. By defining the genetic underpinnings of their unique properties, the lab hopes to begin to get a handle on the molecular underpinnings of neuronal diversity in the brain.

In addition to Aponte-Santiago and Littleton, the paper’s other authors are Kiel Ormerod and Yulia Akbergenova.

The National Institutes of Health and the JPB Foundation supported the study.

Parasite research heats up
Greta Friar | Whitehead Institute
July 7, 2020

Apicomplexan parasites infect hundreds of millions of people around the world each year. Several species of apicomplexan parasites in the Plasmodium genus cause malaria, while another apicomplexan species, Toxoplasma gondii (T. gondii), causes toxoplasmosis, a disease with flu-like symptoms that can be lethal for people with weakened immune systems. In spite of their impact, the biology of these disease-causing parasites is not very well understood and treatment options for infection are limited.

One potential approach to treat infection could be drugs that disrupt the parasites’ calcium signaling, which they rely on to spread from cell to cell in their hosts. The parasites need an influx of calcium in order to burst out of an infected host cell—a process called egress—and move through the host’s body and invade other cells. In previous work, a researcher from Whitehead Institute Member Sebastian Lourido’s lab, Saima Sidik, had tested a large collection of molecules and identified one called enhancer 1 (ENH1), which perturbed the parasites’ calcium levels and prevented egress, as a promising anti-parasitic lead. However, the original experiments did not determine how ENH1 acts. In research published in the journal ACS Chemical Biology on June 29, Alice Herneisen, a graduate student in Lourido’s lab, and Lourido, who is also an assistant professor of biology at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, used an approach called thermal proteome profiling to discover how ENH1 prevents T. gondii parasites from egress. They identified the main target of ENH1 as a calcium-dependent molecule called CDPK1 that parasites use to prepare for egress, moving between cells, and invasion of host cells. ENH1 binds to and prevents CDPK1 from functioning.

“Advances over the past few decades have made discovering a molecule’s potentially therapeutic activity much easier, but the next step of figuring out how the molecule works is often still a challenge,” Lourido says. “By applying newer expansive approaches, we are starting to build a more holistic picture of the parasites’ cell biology.”

Understanding the biology responsible for a potential drug’s observed effects is important because most drugs require modification before they are ready for human use—they may need to be made less toxic, more potent, or more amenable to the environment of the human body—and these sorts of modifications cannot be made until the molecule and its activity are understood.

Herneisen decided to use a relatively new approach in parasites, thermal proteome profiling, to discover the targets of ENH1—the molecules it binds to, leading to its therapeutic effects. The approach works by graphing how each of the proteins inside the parasite reacts to changes in heat with and without being exposed to ENH1. One advantage of this approach is that it is unbiased, meaning that instead of researchers picking likely targets up front to test, they investigate as many molecules as possible, which can lead to unexpected findings. For example, Lourido has been investigating CDPK1 in other contexts for many years, and based on his lab’s previous understanding of its role would not have expected it to be a main target of ENH1—such surprises can direct research in exciting new directions.

Although CDPK1 is ENH1’s main target, the investigations did not uncover the target that allows ENH1 to cause oscillations in the parasites’ calcium levels. Finding this missing target is one of the lab’s next goals.

“The fact that ENH1 affects multiple aspects of calcium signaling may be what makes it such an effective antiparasitic agent,” Herneisen says. “It’s messing with the parasites on several levels.”

Translation of the research for clinical testing is a long way off, but there are multiple indicators that this is a promising direction for investigation. Not only is calcium signaling key to the parasites’ life cycle and ability to spread inside of a host, but the molecules and mechanisms that the parasites use to modulate calcium levels are very different from the ones found in mammals. This means that a drug that disrupts the parasites’ calcium signaling is unlikely to interfere with calcium signaling in human patients, and so could be deadly to the parasites without harming the patients’ cells.

Written by Greta Friar

***

Sebastian Lourido’s primary affiliation is with Whitehead Institute for Biomedical Research, where his laboratory is located and all his research is conducted. He is also an assistant professor of biology at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

***

Herneisen, Alice L. et al. “Identifying the target of an antiparasitic compound in Toxoplasma using thermal proteome profiling.” ACS Chemical Biology, June 29, 2020. https://doi.org/10.1021/acschembio.0c00369

Ruth Lehmann

Education

  • Dr. rer. nat., 1985, University of Tübingen
  • MS, 1981, Biology, University of Freiburg

Research Summary

We study germ cells, the only cells in the body naturally able to generate completely new organisms. In addition to the nuclear genome, cytoplasmic information is passed though the egg cell to the next generation. We analyze the organization and regulation of germ line specific RNA-protein condensates, and explore mechanisms used by endosymbionts such as mitochondria and the intracellular bacterium, Wolbachia, to propagate through the cytoplasm of the female germ line.

Awards

  • Vanderbilt Prize in Biomedical Science, 2022
  • Gruber Genetics Prize, 2022
  • Thomas Hunt Morgan Medal, Genetics Society of America, 2021
  • Francis Amory Prize in Reproductive Medicine and Reproductive Physiology, American Academy of Arts and Sciences, 2020
  • Vilcek Prize in Biomedical Science, 2020
  • Keith R. Porter Award, American Society for Cell Biology, 2018
  • Inaugural Klaus Sander Prize, German Society for Developmental Biology, 2017
  • European Molecular Biology Organization, Foreign Associate, 2012
  • Conklin Medal of the Society of Developmental Biology, 2011
  • National Academy of Sciences, Foreign Associate, 2005; Member, 2008
  • American Academy of Arts and Sciences, Member, 1998
  • Howard Hughes Medical Institute, Investigator, 1990 and 1997
Bringing computers into the protein fold

In the lab, Biology Professor Amy Keating researches the interactions of proteins with a mix of modeling and synthetic lab work and diverse minds

School of Science
June 11, 2020

Almost everything in biology is a multistep process, from the metabolization of carbohydrates and fats as fuel to information transcription from DNA and RNA. Without proteins and their interactions, cells couldn’t perform any of these biological tasks. But how do proteins establish their individual roles? And how do they interact with each other?  These questions drive Professor Amy Keating’s research, and both lab experiments and computational modeling are helping her reveal the mysteries behind the basic functions of life.

In Keating’s field of research, as with most areas of science, the use of artificial intelligence is a relatively new – and growing – trend. “It’s pretty scary how fast new methods in machine learning are changing the landscape,” says Keating, who holds appointments in both the Department of Biology and the Department of Biological Engineering. “I think that we will see a disruptive change in protein modeling over the coming years.” She has found that incorporating basic machine learning methods in her own work has generated some success in uncovering how protein sequences determine their interactions.

However, there are limits to using only computational modeling due to the complexities of protein-protein interaction and a general need for empirical data to calibrate the models. Her lab group integrates computation with biological engineering in a laboratory setting. Keating’s team often starts by using computational modeling to narrow down their search from a massive collection of protein structure models. This step limits their output from an effectively infinite space (~1030) to something on the order of 106 potential promising molecules that can be experimentally tested. They can feed the results of experiments into other algorithms that help designate the specific features of the protein that prove important. This process is cyclical, and Keating emphasizes that experimental efforts are crucial for improving the success rate of this kind of work. That is where the lab comes in. There, they do what the computer cannot: they build proteins.

With the disruption of the COVID-19 crisis the Keating lab has focused their attention on computational projects, as well as on reviewing the literature and writing up papers and theses. The members are also using their time at home to brainstorm and plan their research. “We are having multiple group meetings per week by Zoom, including a ‘Keating Group Idea Lab,’ at which everyone throws out ideas, ranging from practical suggestions about current projects to out-there new concepts, for group discussion,” says Keating. “We are confident that we can use this time productively, to advance our science, even as we make long lists of things that we are eager to do as soon as we can get back into the laboratory.”

A topic of current interest to Keating and her group members is interactions among proteins with “short linear motifs” or SLiMs, which are abundant –more than one hundred thousand such motifs are thought to exist in one human. One family of these SLiM-binding proteins regulates movement of cells within the body and is implicated in the spread of cancer cells to a secondary location (metastasis). The lab’s novel mini-protein and peptide designs aim to disrupt these protein interactions and could be useful for eventually disrupting and treating cancer and other diseases.

FOSTERING MULTIPLE INTERACTIONS

Currently, Keating’s research team consists of six students who have backgrounds in almost as many different cultures. Her students’ diversity, which stems not just from different focuses in formal training but also from life experiences, is integral to their success, according to Keating. She wishes that more women like herself and members of underrepresented minority groups who love STEM would consider pursuing academic careers. “It’s hard work, but it’s very rewarding,” she entices. The best thing about being a faculty member, she believes, is having a team of bright minds who contribute unique ideas and insights to a problem and provide information beyond her own areas of expertise.

“I learn facts that they know and I do not. I learn interesting ways of thinking about science and also ways of doing science,” she says, noting that novel ideas in methodology lead to advances in research. “I’ve learned a lot of things about computer science from my students. I’m happy that one of my former biology students is [now] a professor of computer science,” she admits, appreciating his expertise as a benefit in frequent collaborations. “I love that students at MIT question everything.” Keating’s ever-expanding knowledge builds on top of a diverse background gleaned during her time as a student.

Keating’s bachelor’s degree from Harvard University is in physics. During her PhD at University of California, Los Angeles, she shifted to chemistry — specifically computational physical organic chemistry. When browsing for a postdoctoral position, she discovered the work of former MIT Department of Biology faculty and Whitehead Institute member Peter Kim and joined him. She maintained her interest in computation as a tool for biological research, concurrently co-advised by MIT Professor of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science Bruce Tidor. It was somewhat down to chance that her academic job search led her to MIT. “I certainly never thought I would be a biology professor, especially at MIT,” she remarks of her convoluted career path through the wide world of science.

But it is an unexpected result for which Keating is grateful. “My undergrad self would have been surprised by the MIT School of Science,” she muses, which makes MIT “so much more than ‘just’ the world’s best engineering school.” That is something of a common misconception about the Institute, she feels. “I think a lot of people outside of MIT don’t know how outstanding our basic science programs are.” Keating is a part of the strong science education at MIT, which is constantly adapting to keep up with the digital age, which led to her receiving the most recent Fund for the Future of Science Award.

“I was thrilled, and pretty surprised, to receive the award; my fantastic colleagues in the School of Science are not people that you want to be competing with.” This support is invaluable to her research on the foundations of biological interactions, and to ensure a robust team that has what it needs to develop important advances.  The curious minds with which she collaborates are equally as invaluable.

“The people at MIT are amazingly smart, curious, and focused on things that I value,” Keating adds, “like good ideas, intellectual rigor, discovering new things, and education.”

This article appeared in the Summer 2020 issue of Science@MIT

Jonathan Weissman

Education

  • PhD, 1993, MIT
  • AB, 1988, Physics, Harvard

Research Summary

We study how cells ensure that proteins fold into their correct shape, as well as the role of protein misfolding in disease and normal physiology. We also build innovative tools for broadly exploring organizational principles of biological systems. These include ribosome profiling, which globally monitors protein translation, CRIPSRi/a for controlling the expression of human genes and rewiring the epigenome, and lineage tracing tools, to record the history of cells.

Awards

  • Ira Herskowitz Award, Genetic Society of America, 2020
  • European Molecular Biology Organization, Member, 2017
  • National Academy of Sciences Award for Scientific Discovery, 2015
  • American Academy of Microbiology, Fellow, 2010
  • National Academy of Sciences, Member, 2009
  • Raymond and Beverly Sackler International Prize in Biophysics, Tel Aviv University, 2008
  • Protein Society Irving Sigal Young Investigator’s Award, 2004
  • Howard Hughes Medical Institute, Assistant Investigator, 2000
  • Searle Scholars Program Fellowship, 1997
  • David and Lucile Packard Fellowship, 1996
3 Questions with Seychelle Vos

An unconventional geneticist uses cryogenic electron microscopy and crystallography to understand gene expression and cell fate.

Lucy Jakub
June 1, 2020

Seychelle Vos arrived in September 2019 as the Department of Biology’s newest assistant professor. Her lab in Building 68 uses cryogenic electron microscopy (cryo-EM), X-ray crystallography, biochemistry, and genetics to study how DNA and its associated proteins are organized inside the cell. Vos received her PhD from the University of California at Berkeley and completed her postdoctoral research at the Max Planck Institute for Biophysical Chemistry in Germany. She sat down to discuss her structural biology research, and why it’s so important to understand DNA as a physical structure.

Q: Your research is on the proteins that compress DNA so it can fit inside a cellular organelle called the nucleus. How does the genome organize itself in different shapes to perform different functions in the cell, and why is this an important process for us to understand?

A: If we take all the DNA inside of one human cell and stretch it out end to end, it extends 2 meters in length. But it needs to fit into the nucleus, which is only a few microns wide. It’s essentially like stringing a fishing line from here to New Haven and trying to put it in a soccer ball. That’s not an easy thing to do. There are lots of proteins that compact the genome either by wrapping the DNA around themselves or by forming loops in the DNA.

In order to replicate DNA or transcribe it to make a protein, the cell’s molecular machinery needs to be able to access and read it. Depending on how the DNA is wrapped and organized, different genes will be more accessible than others. In a stem cell, essentially any gene can be turned on. But as cells begin to differentiate into kidney cells, liver cells, and so on, only the genes specific to those functions can be turned on. Every cell has its own set of proteins that make it special, and most of that regulation happens at the level of RNA expression.

Our lab wants to understand how DNA organization impacts gene expression at the atomic level. This gets to the crux of how a stem cell becomes a specific cell type, and what happens when those programs go wrong. Without the right kind of compaction you can have cancer phenotypes, because things get turned on that shouldn’t be, or a cell thinks it’s a stem cell again and divides really fast. Many of the proteins we study are involved either in developmental disorders or cancers. If we don’t understand their basic biology, it’s very hard to come up with reasonable ways of treating these diseases.

Q: What was it about structural biology that hooked you during your early career?

A: When I started my PhD at UC Berkeley, I didn’t have much of an interest in structural biology. I thought that I wanted to study the immunology of nucleic acids, and I did my first lab rotation with Jennifer Doudna, one of the biochemists who was instrumental in developing CRISPR-Cas9 as a gene-editing tool. She might seem like a funny first person to do a rotation with if you were doing immunology, but CRISPR is essentially a bacterial immune system, and I went to her lab just to see a completely different way of viewing immunology. During that rotation, I fell in love with crystallography. What’s so beautiful about this technique is that it shows us how different atoms are communicating with each other, and how one molecule might be engaging with another molecule.

For the rest of my rotations as a graduate student, I did research in biochemistry and structural biology labs, and ended up joining James Berger’s lab, which did a combination of both. I worked on a class of enzymes called topoisomerases that bind to DNA and uncoil the DNA when it gets tangled. I was able to solve a number of very interesting structures, and do biochemistry and genetics all at the same time.

During my postdoc I studied RNA polymerase II, the enzyme that makes all the RNAs that turn into proteins in the cell and determine the cell’s identity. I wanted to know how it is regulated after the initiation stage of transcription. One of the proteins I was working with wouldn’t crystallize, and we had to come up with some other ways of seeing it. So we turned to cryo-EM, which had just become a very high-resolution technology — we could actually see the atoms touching each other! That was a game-changer for me. If you told me at the beginning of my PhD that these technologies could become central to my research, I would have told you there’s no way that would happen. But life has surprises.

Q: How does your expertise in genetics and biochemistry help you solve structural problems?

A: I’m definitely not your average structural biologist — I use structural tools to advance the genetics I want to do. My lab uses genetics to inform which protein complexes we want to look at, and then we use cryo-EM and X-ray crystallography to understand how those proteins actually affect RNA polymerase II. With what we learn about the structure, we can go back and use targeted genetic approaches to remove those proteins from the genome and see what happens to gene expression in particular cells. I also have projects where we’ll do a genetic screen first, and then use structural biology and chemistry techniques to get more information. The research is like a giant feedback loop. You need all of those perspectives to really understand the whole system.

Cellular players get their moment in the limelight
Greta Friar | Whitehead Institute
May 27, 2020

In order to understand our biology, researchers need to investigate not only what cells are doing, but also more specifically what is happening inside of cells at the level of organelles, the specialized structures that perform unique tasks to keep the cell functioning. However, most methods for analysis take place at the level of the whole cell. Because a specific organelle might make up only a fraction of an already microscopic cell’s contents, “background noise” from other cellular components can drown out useful information about the organelle being studied, such as changes in the organelle’s protein or metabolite levels in response to different conditions.

Whitehead Institute Member David Sabatini and Walter Chen, a former graduate student in Sabatini’s lab and now a pediatrics resident at Boston Children’s Hospital and Boston Medical Center and a postdoctoral researcher at Harvard Medical School, developed in recent years a method for isolating organelles for analysis that outstrips previous methods in its ability to purify organelles both rapidly and specifically. They first applied the method to mitochondria, the energy-generating organelles known as the “powerhouses of the cell,” and published their study in Cell in 2016. Subsequently, former Sabatini lab postdoctoral researcher Monther Abu-Remaileh and graduate student Gregory Wyant applied the method to lysosomes, the recycling plants of cells that break down cell parts for reuse, as described in the journal Science in 2017. In collaboration with former Sabatini lab postdoctoral researcher Kivanc Birsoy, Sabatini and Chen next developed a way to use the mitochondrial method in mice, as described in PNAS in 2019. Now, in a paper published in iScience on May 22, Sabatini, Chen, and graduate student Jordan Ray have extended the method for use on peroxisomes, organelles that play essential roles in human physiology.

“It’s gratifying to see this toolkit expand so we can use it to gain insight into the nuances of these organelles’ biology,” Sabatini says.

Using their organellar immunoprecipitation techniques, the researchers have uncovered previously unknown aspects of mitochondrial biology, including changes in metabolites during diverse states of mitochondrial function. They also uncovered new aspects of lysosomal biology, including how nutrient starvation affects the exchange of amino acids between the organelle and the rest of the cell. Their methods could help researchers gain new insights into diseases in which mitochondria or lysosomes are affected, such as mitochondrial respiratory chain disorders, lysosomal storage diseases, and Parkinson’s Disease. Now that Sabatini, Chen, and Ray have extended the method to peroxisomes, it could also be used to learn more about peroxisome-linked disorders.

DEVELOPING A POTENT METHOD

The researchers’ method is based on “organellar immunoprecipitation,” which utilizes antibodies, immune system proteins that recognize specific perceived threats that they are supposed to bind to and help remove from the body. The researchers create a custom tag for each type of organelle by taking an epitope, the section of a typical perceived threat that antibodies recognize and bind to, and fusing it to a protein that is known to localize to the membrane of the organelle of interest, so the tag will attach to the organelle. The cells containing these tagged organelles are first broken up to release all of the cell’s contents, and then put in solution with tiny magnetic beads covered in the aforementioned antibodies. The antibodies on the beads latch onto the tagged organelles. A magnet is then used to collect all of the beads and separate the bound organelles from the rest of the cellular material, while contaminants are washed away. The resulting isolated organelles can subsequently be analyzed using a variety of methods that look at the organelles’ metabolites, lipids, and proteins.

With their method, Chen and Sabatini have developed an organellar isolation technique that is both rapid and specific, qualities that prior methods have typically lacked. The workflow that Chen and Sabatini developed is fast—this new iteration for peroxisomes takes only 10 minutes to isolate the tagged organelles once they have been released from cells. Speed is important because the natural profile of the organelles’ metabolites and proteins begins to change once they are released from the cell, and the longer the process takes, the less the results will reflect the organelle’s native state.

“We’re interested in studying the metabolic contents of organelles, which can be labile over the course of an isolation,” Chen says. “Because of their speed and specificity, these methods allow us to not only better assess the original metabolic profile of a specific organelle but also study proteins that may have more transient interactions with the organelle, which is very exciting.”

PEROXISOMES TAKE THE LIMELIGHT

Peroxisomes are organelles that are important for multiple metabolic processes and contribute to a number of essential biological functions, such as producing the insulating myelin sheaths for neurons. Defects in peroxisomal function are found in various genetic disorders in children and have been implicated in neurodegenerative diseases as well. However, compared to other organelles such as mitochondria, peroxisomes are relatively understudied. Being able to get a close-up look at the contents of peroxisomes may provide insights into important and previously unappreciated biology. Importantly, in contrast to traditional ways of isolating peroxisomes, the new method that Sabatini, Chen, and Ray have developed is not only fast and specific, but also reproducible and easy to use.

“Peroxisomal biology is quite fascinating, and there are a lot of outstanding questions about how they are formed, how they mature, and what their role is in disease that hopefully this tool can help elucidate,” Ray says.

An exciting next step may be to adapt the peroxisome isolation method so it can be used in a mammaliam model organism, such as mice, something the researchers have already done with the mitochondrial version.

“Using this method in animals could be especially helpful for studying peroxisomes because peroxisomes participate in a variety of functions that are essential on an organismal rather than cellular level,” Chen says. Going forward, Chen is interested in using the method to profile the contents of peroxisomes in specific cell types across a panel of different mammalian organs.

While Chen sets out to discover what unknown biology the peroxisome isolation method can reveal, researchers in Sabatini’s lab are busy working on another project: extending the method to even more organelles.

Written by Greta Friar

***

David Sabatini’s primary affiliation is with Whitehead Institute for Biomedical Research, where his laboratory is located and all his research is conducted. He is also a Howard Hughes Medical Institute investigator and a professor of biology at Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

***

Citations:

G. Jordan Ray, Elizabeth A. Boydston, Emily Shortt, Gregory A. Wyant, Sebastian Lourido, Walter W. Chen, David M. Sabatini,  “A PEROXO-Tag Enables Rapid Isolation of Peroxisomes from Human Cells,” iScience, May 22, 2020.

Bayraktar et al., “MITO-Tag Mice enable rapid isolation and multimodal profiling of mitochondria from specific cell types in vivo,” PNAS, Jan 2, 2019.

Abu-Remaileh et al., “Lysosomal metabolomics reveals V-ATPase- and mTOR-dependent regulation of amino acid efflux from lysosomes,” Science, Nov 10, 2017.

Chen et al., “Absolute quantification of matrix metabolites reveals the dynamics of mitochondrial metabolism,” Cell, August 25, 2016.

Study finds ‘volume dial’ for turning neural communication up or down
Picower Institute
May 6, 2020

Neuroscientists at MIT’s Picower Institute for Learning and Memory have found that a protein acts like a volume dial for the release of neurotransmitters, the chemicals that neurons release across connections called synapses to stimulate muscles or communicate with other neurons in brain circuits. The findings help explain how synapses work and could better inform understanding of some neurological disorders.

Working in the model of fruit flies, the team determined that the protein Synaptotagmin 7 (SYT7), which is also found in humans and other mammals, constrains the number and availability of neurotransmitter-containing blobs, called vesicles, for release at the synapse. Neurons deploy vesicles to sites called “active zones” to release them across synapses, a process called “vesicle fusion.”  When the scientists reduced SYT7, they saw much more neurotransmitter release at synapses. When they increased the protein, neurotransmitter release dropped significantly.

“You can think of this as almost like a radio’s volume dial,” said senior author Troy Littleton, Menicon Professor of Neuroscience in MIT’s Departments of Biology and Brain and Cognitive Sciences. “If a neuron wants to send more signal out all it has to do is basically reduce the levels of SYT7 protein that it is making. It’s a very elegant way for neurons to turn up or down the amount of output that they are giving.”

The study’s co-lead authors are Zhuo Guan, a research scientist, and Mónica C. Quiñones-Frías, who successfully defended her doctoral thesis on the work May 4. She noted that by acting as that volume dial, the protein could change the nature of a synapse’s activity in a circuit, a property called “synaptic plasticity.”

“Syt7 regulates neurotransmission in a dose-dependent manner and can act as a switch for short term synaptic plasticity,” Quiñones-Frías said.

Research scientist Yulia Akbergenova is also a co-author of the study published in eLife.

Synaptic surprise

Important as they are, the study’s findings are not ones the team was originally looking for.

For decades, neuroscientists have known that the synaptotagmin protein family plays key roles in synaptic function. In fact, Littleton’s 1993 doctoral dissertation showed that SYT1 promoted a quick release of neurotransmitters when triggered by an influx of calcium ions. But even with SYT1 disabled, synapses could still release neurotransmitters on a slower timeframe. No one has found what promotes that subsequent slower release, but many scientists had pinned their hopes on it being SYT7.

“That’s been something that the whole field, including my lab, has really been searching for,” Littleton said. “So it was a real surprise when we knocked it out and saw just the opposite of what we expected.”

Mutants and microscopes

To study SYT7 the team focused its experiments on synapses in a well characterized locale: the junction between a fly neuron and muscle. The team not only wanted to see what differences changing the protein’s levels would make in synaptic activity there, but also track how it made those differences.

They changed the amount of SYT7 the neuron could produce by mutating and breeding flies in which the gene was completely eliminated, only one copy could be expressed, or in which the gene was overexpressed, producing more SYT7 than normal. For each of these fly lines they measured the surprising inverse relationship between SYT7 and synaptic transmission.

Also, using a technique the lab invented to visually flag neurotransmitter release every time it happens, they mapped how active individual synapses at the neuron-muscle junction were over time. In flies engineered to produce less SYT7 they saw many more synapses with a high propensity for release than they did in normal flies.

Once they confirmed SYT7’s restrictive role, the natural question was how does SYT7 constrain neurotransmitter release. Synapses are very complex, after all, and crucial aspects of SYT7’s role within that machinery had yet to be characterized.

When they compared synapses in normal flies and those missing SYT7 they didn’t see major differences in anatomy or calcium influx that could explain how SYT7 works to limit release.

They then turned their attention to the cycle in which vesicles release their neurotransmitter cargo and are then sent back into the cell to refill with neurotransmitter before rejoining a pool of vesicles ready for redeployment. Their experiments showed that neurons lacking SYT7 didn’t recycle the vesicles differently but they nevertheless had more vesicles in the readily releasable pool (RRP). Moreover, mutants in which SYT7 was overexpressed substantially limited the vesicles in that pool.

“SYT7 limits release in a dosage-sensitive manner by negatively regulating the number of synaptic vesicles available for fusion and slowing recovery of the RRP following stimulation,” they determined.

The final step was to track down where SYT7 resides in the synaptic machinery. Under the microscope they were able to pin it down in a network of tubes surrounding, but not within the active zones. The vantage point is right where other proteins regulating vesicle trafficking also reside, giving SYT7 a clear opportunity to interact with those proteins to regulate the return of vesicles to the active zones.

Implications for disease and plasticity

Understanding more about SYT7’s role at the synapse in mammals could matter in several ways, Littleton said. Two years ago, researchers showed that the protein is reduced in mice harboring a genetic cause of Alzheimer’s disease. And in February another paper showed that patients with bipolar disorder exhibited lower levels of the protein than people who do not have the disorder. Mice with SYT7 knocked out showed some manic and depressive behaviors.

More fundamentally, Littleton and Quiñones-Frías said, is the flexibility or plasticity it can afford. Because SYT7 regulates neurotransmitter release by slowing down the resupply of releasable vesicles, an increase in its levels can transform a synapse from being the kind that sends out large bursts of signal (and therefore transmits more information) early on and then peters out into one that builds up its signal over time. Such distinctions in release timeframe can make important differences in circuit information processing in the brain.

Although the team was able to identify SYT7’s effect at synapses and show key aspects of how it functions, they still hope to determine the exact mechanism that allows the protein to gate vesicle fusion. That work is ongoing.

The National Institutes of Health and the JPB Foundation provided support for the research.