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Vol. 10, Issue 5, 1665-1683, May 1999


*Department of Microbiology and Immunology,
Neuroscience Graduate
Program, University of California at San Francisco, San Francisco,
California 94143; and §Cell Genesys Inc., Foster City,
California 94404
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ABSTRACT |
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Astrocytes in neuron-free cultures typically lack processes, although they are highly process-bearing in vivo. We show that basic fibroblast growth factor (bFGF) induces cultured astrocytes to grow processes and that Ras family GTPases mediate these morphological changes. Activated alleles of rac1 and rhoA blocked and reversed bFGF effects when introduced into astrocytes in dissociated culture and in brain slices using recombinant adenoviruses. By contrast, dominant negative (DN) alleles of both GTPases mimicked bFGF effects. A DN allele of Ha-ras blocked bFGF effects but not those of Rac1-DN or RhoA-DN. Our results show that bFGF acting through c-Ha-Ras inhibits endogenous Rac1 and RhoA GTPases thereby triggering astrocyte process growth, and they provide evidence for the regulation of this cascade in vivo by a yet undetermined neuron-derived factor.
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INTRODUCTION |
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In the nervous system, astrocytes are highly process-bearing
cells. Their processes serve as tracts for migrating neuroblasts (Cameron and Rakic, 1991
), and contact nodes of Ranvier and ensheathe synapses where they buffer potassium ions and neurotransmitters (Ffrench-Constant et al., 1986
; Mennerick and Zorumski,
1994
; Hansson and Ronnback, 1995
; Sontheimer, 1995
; Mennerick et
al., 1996
). When astrocytes are removed from the brain into cell
culture in the absence of neurons, they fail to extend their processes and instead divide and grow as a flat fibroblast-like contact-inhibited monolayer (Hatten, 1985
). Exposure of cultured astrocytes to live neurons induces them to form processes and to assume a morphology reminiscent of that in adult brain (Hatten, 1985
; Gasser and Hatten, 1990
). These observations suggest that a neuron-derived factor normally
sculpts the adult morphology of astrocytes in vivo.
Although much is currently known about the signals that guide and speed
the growth of neuronal processes, less is known about the mechanisms
that induce process formation in astrocytes and neurons. Recent
progress, however, has implicated the Ras family of GTPases, which
includes c-Ha-Ras, Cdc42, Rac1, and RhoA, in controlling membrane and
cytoskeletal reorganization in various cell types (reviewed in Van
Aelst and D'Souza-Schorey, 1997
). In non-neural cells, Cdc42 appears
to cause filopodial extensions (Kozma et al., 1995
; Nobes
and Hall, 1995
), Rac1 produces lamellipodia and membrane ruffling
(Ridley et al., 1992
), and RhoA produces actin bundles and
focal adhesions (Ridley and Hall, 1992
). Such membrane structures and
rearrangements are also found in the growth cones of processes in both
neurons (reviewed in Cramer, 1997
) and astrocytes (Mason et
al., 1988
; Kalman and Gomperts, unpublished observations). In
neurons, Cdc42, Rac1, and RhoA have been implicated in process growth
and growth cone dynamics (Kozma et al., 1997
; Leeuwen
et al., 1997
; Threadgill et al., 1997
;
Daniels et al., 1998
). For example, Cdc42 and/or Rac1 act to
promote growth cone extension, in opposition to the effects of RhoA
(Kozma et al., 1997
; Leeuwen et al., 1997
;
however, see Threadgill et al., 1997
). In astrocytes, RhoA
has been implicated, albeit indirectly, in a membrane retraction event
called "cavitation," which is produced by the addition of
membrane-permeable analogues of cAMP (Koyama and Baba, 1996
; see also
Goldman and Chiu, 1984
; Goldman and Abramson, 1990
; Baorto et
al., 1992
).
Importantly, growth factors and other signaling molecules regulate
small GTPase activity. For example, PDGF and Ha-Ras can activate
Rac1-dependent events in fibroblasts (Ridley and Hall, 1992
),
endothelins activate RhoA in astrocytes (Koyama and Baba, 1996
), and
Rac1 has been implicated in nerve growth factor
(NGF)1-induced process growth in PC12 cells (Daniels
et al., 1998
). In addition, Cdc42, Rac1, and RhoA appear to
be coupled in some but not all cell types (Nobes and Hall, 1995
; Kozma
et al., 1997
; Leeuwen et al., 1997
). In Swiss 3T3
fibroblasts, for example, Cdc42 can induce transient filopodial
extensions followed by Rac1-dependent lamellipodia (Kozma et
al., 1995
; Nobes and Hall, 1995
). Likewise, Rac1 appears capable
of inducing not just lamellipodia but also actin bundles, an event
blocked by dominant inhibitory RhoA alleles (Ridley and Hall, 1992
;
Peppelenbosch et al., 1995
).
The observation that filopodia and lamellipodia occur along and at the
tips of developing astrocyte processes (Mason et al., 1988
;
Kalman and Gomperts, unpublished observations), and the reported role
of RhoA in antagonizing process growth both in neurons and in
astrocytes (Koyama and Baba, 1996
; Kozma et al., 1997
; Leeuwen et al., 1997
), has led us to examine the role of
small GTPases of the Ras superfamily in initiation, growth, and
maintenance of processes of neonatal rat hippocampal astrocytes. We
have identified basic fibroblast growth factor (bFGF) as a potent
inducer of process growth and membrane retraction in cultured
astrocytes (see also Perraud et al., 1988
). By expressing
dominant inhibitory or constitutively active forms of the Ras family
members, we have defined a signal transduction cascade in which bFGF,
acting via Ha-Ras, inhibits Rac1 and RhoA. This cascade differs
substantially from that described in cultured neurons (Kozma et
al., 1997
; Leeuwen et al., 1997
; see also Threadgill
et al., 1997
). Our results suggest that culturing of
astrocytes upregulates the activity of Rac1 and RhoA, thereby causing
loss of processes and cell spreading. bFGF causes membrane retraction
by inhibiting Rac1 and RhoA activity and driving consequent actin
reorganization in the cell soma. FGF also causes process growth that
depends on this inhibition, but in addition requires extension of actin
at the cell periphery into the growing processes. Rac1 and RhoA alleles
act identically on astrocytes in organotypic hippocampal slice
cultures. Our results raise the possibility that the GTPase cascade
initiated by bFGF may play an important role in vivo in regulating
astrocyte morphology, although it is not yet clear which growth factor
triggers the cascade.
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MATERIALS AND METHODS |
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Culturing Primary Hippocampal Astrocytes and Organotypic Hippocampal Slices
Hippocampi of postnatal day (P0) Sprague Dawley rat pups were
removed, and the dentate gyri were grossly dissected. Cells derived
from the remaining tissue were isolated as described by Lester et
al. (1989)
and plated onto glass coverslips previously coated with collagen (60 µg/ml; Invitrogen, San Diego, CA) and poly-D-lysine (200 µg/ml; Sigma, St. Louis, MO). The
cells were grown in DMEM supplemented with 10% FCS ("complete"
media). Half of the growth media was exchanged at weekly intervals. The
microdissection procedure yielded cultures that contained predominantly
astrocytes (>99%) and a small number of neurons (<1%) as assessed
by staining with antibodies recognizing the neuronal markers GAP-43 and
MAP-2, or the astrocyte marker glial fibrillary acidic protein (GFAP) (Bignami et al., 1972
). We found no evidence for fibroblasts
in the culture (i.e., flat, contact-inhibited cells that were not GFAP
immunoreactive). For some experiments, media was supplemented with bFGF
(Life Technologies-BRL, Gaithersburg, MD) at 0.01-1 ng/ml, EGF
(Life Technologies-BRL) at 50 ng/ml, PDGF-AA (Life Technologies-BRL) at
50 ng/ml, TGF-
(a gift of R. Derynk, UCSF) at 50 ng/ml, NGF
(Boehringer Mannheim, Indianapolis, IN) at 100 ng/ml, or leukemia
inhibitory factor (a gift of S. Kogan, UCSF) at 50 ng/ml. Growth
factors in the media were replenished every 2 d. Cultures were
used within the first 3 wk after plating, because cells cultured for
longer than that underwent spontaneous morphological changes. For
organotypic cultures, 400-µm-thick slices of hippocampus from P0 rats
were placed on top of millicell filter membranes (Millipore, Bedford,
MA), and floated in 35-mm tissue culture dishes containing 1 ml of MEM
supplemented with HBSS (25 mM), glutamine (2 mM), and 25%
heat-inactivated horse serum (Stoppini et al., 1991
).
Generation of Recombinant Adenoviruses
For virus construction, cDNA sequences encoding the Rac1 alleles
(V12, activated; V12/N17 or N17, dominant negatives) (Ridley and Hall,
1992
; Ridley et al., 1992
), or RhoA alleles (V14 or L63,
activated; N19, dominant negative) (Khosravi-Far et al., 1995
), or Ha-Ras (A15, dominant negative) (Chen et al.,
1994
), or Green Fluorescent Protein (GFP), or p21-activated kinase
(PAK) were cloned into the plasmid vector pTET7 (Hardy et
al., 1997
). cDNAs were cloned downstream of a tetracycline
repressor binding sequence, a minimal cytomegalovirus (CMV)
promoter, and a transcriptional start site, and upstream of a pA
sequence. The pTET7 vector also contained sites recognized by the
bacterial CRE recombinase and viral packaging sequences. All
plasmids generated in this study were sequenced using the
dye-terminator method and checked for expression by transient
transfection into HEK293 cells using the calcium phosphate method
followed by Western blotting analysis, or immunofluorescence (see
below). The GTPases, with the exception of dominant negative RhoA
(RhoA-DN), were tagged with a myc epitope and recognized by the mAb
9E10. The RhoA-DN protein was recognized by a mAb (Santa Cruz
Biochemicals, Santa Cruz, CA). The GFP protein was recognized by its
fluorescence signal in the FITC channel or by polyclonal antisera
(Clontech, Palo Alto, CA). PAK alleles were tagged with the
hemagluttinin A epitope and recognized with the mAb 12CA5
(Boehringer Mannheim). The plasmid vector was then used to generate
recombinant adenoviruses in HEK293 cells containing the CRE
recombinase as described previously (Hardy et al., 1997
). As
a result of the recombination system used, viruses generated were
~90% pure as assessed by restriction digest, and at a titer of
~1010 particles/ml. Viruses were tested for function in
astrocytes (see below) and subsequently plaque-purified on HEK293 cells
overlaid with agar to eliminate nonrecombined or aberrantly
recombined contaminants. The contaminant viruses produced no detectable
effects on astrocyte morphology.
Infection of Primary Cultured Astrocytes, Organotypic Hippocampal Slices, and Live Animals
Cultures of primary astrocytes were exposed for 1 h to
virus expressing a GTPase or GFP or PAK under control of tetracycline repressor elements and a minimal CMV promoter (tet-mCMV), together with
virus constitutively expressing a tetracycline repressor-VP16 fusion
protein, which was required to activate expression of the tet-mCMV
(Gossen and Bujard, 1992
; Neering et al., 1996
). Virus infection was performed in complete DMEM. At a multiplicity of infection (m.o.i.) of ~107 for both viruses, virtually
all the cells in the culture expressed recombinant protein as assessed
by fluorescence microscopy (see below). Cells were washed three times
with complete DMEM. After the final wash, the conditioned media in
which the cells had been cultured was returned together with any
required growth factors. Organotypic slices were infected at identical
virus titers but for a longer period (12-14 h) to allow the virus to
penetrate the tissue. For live animal experiments, ~100 µl of virus
diluted in complete medium was injected into the brains of
halothane-anesthetized P0 rats using a syringe attached to a 27-gauge
needle. Each animal was injected eight times. After injections, the
animals were returned to their mother.
Immunohistochemistry
Morphological assessments were performed 12 h to 4 d
after infection. Cells were fixed for 20 min at room temperature in a buffer that contained 4% formaldehyde, 320 mM sucrose, and
cytoskeleton buffer (10 mM 2-(N-morpholino)ethanesulfonic
acid, pH 6.1, 138 mM KCl, 3 mM MgCl2, and 2 mM
EGTA). Time-lapse microscopy during fixation confirmed that the
fixation buffer had no effect on cell morphology. Cells were washed
three times in cytoskeleton buffer and permeabilized for 10 min in
cytoskeleton buffer supplemented with 0.5% Triton X-100. Cells were
then washed in TBS (150 mM NaCl, 20 mM Tris-Cl, pH 7.4) containing
0.1% Triton X-100 (TBS-Tx) and blocked in TBS-Tx containing 2% goat
serum for 1 h. For actin staining, cells were incubated with
TBS-Tx containing rhodamine-phalloidin (1 µg/ml) (Molecular
Probes, Eugene, OR) for 1 h, washed in TBS-Tx, washed once with
water, and mounted for microscopy in antifade (Molecular Probes). For
antibody staining in conjunction with actin staining, or for antibody
staining alone, cells were fixed and blocked as described above,
incubated with primary antibodies in TBS-Tx plus 2% goat serum for
1 h, washed five times, incubated with secondary antibodies in
TBS-Tx plus 2% goat serum for 1 h, washed, and mounted as
described above. The primary antibodies and concentrations used in this
study were as follows: 9E10 mAb (ascites, 1:200 dilution),
-RhoA mAb
(0.1 µg/ml, Santa Cruz Biochemicals),
-RhoA polyclonal antibody
(0.1 µg/ml, Santa Cruz Biochemicals),
-Rac polyclonal antibody
(0.1 µg/ml, Santa Cruz Biochemicals),
-Ha-Ras mAb (ascites,1:200
dilution),
-HA mAb (1 µg/ml, Boehringer Mannheim),
-GFAP mAb
(ascites, 1:200 dilution; Sigma),
-GFAP polyclonal antibody (neat,
Biomeda, Foster City, CA),
-GAP-43, and
-MAP-2 (ascites,
1:100 each, Sigma). Secondary antibodies and concentrations were as
follows: fluorescein-conjugated
-mouse IgG1-specific antibody, which
recognizes 9E10 antibody (1:500 dilution, Boehringer Mannheim), Texas
Red (TR)-conjugated
-rabbit antibody (1.5 µg/ml), Cy-5-conjugated
-rabbit antibody (1.5 µg/ml), Cy-5-conjugated
-mouse antibody
(1.5 µg/ml), and fluorescein-conjugated
-rabbit antibody (1.5 µg/ml) (all from Jackson Immunochemicals, West Grove, PA).
Organotypic slices were washed one time in PBS and then fixed for 45 min in cytoskeleton fixation buffer. The slices were washed for 2 h in PBS and then permeabilized and blocked overnight in PBS containing
0.5% Triton X-100 and 1% goat serum. After washing briefly in
PBS-0.1% Tx, the slices were incubated overnight with 9E10 antibody
ascites diluted 1:75 in
-GFAP polyclonal antibody (Biomeda Co.). The
slices were washed extensively over the next 24 h with
PBS-0.1%Tx, incubated overnight in fluorescein-conjugated
-mouse
antibody and a Cy-5-conjugated
-rabbit antibody (each diluted 1:200
in PBS-0.1%Tx), and washed for 24 h before mounting for
microscopy. Using this procedure, ~500-1000 cells were 9E10 positive, and of these roughly one-third stained definitively for GFAP
and one-third were clearly GFAP negative and presumed to be neurons.
Because of the relatively poor optics in the slices, no determination
of cell type could be made on the remaining one-third of the cells.
Attempts to visualize cells expressing the Ha-Ras-DN protein proved
futile because of background problems encountered with the commercial
antiserum. For whole-animal experiments, rat pups were anesthetized in
a chamber containing halothane and then killed. After
dissection, the brain was immersed in 10% formalin for 24 h,
washed, and incubated for an additional 24 h in PBS containing
30% sucrose. The brains were then frozen under powdered dry ice and
sliced in 60-µm sections on a cryostat (Leitz, Deerfield, IL).
Sections of brain were stained in a manner identical to the organotypic slices.
Microscopy
Time-lapse microscopy was performed on astrocytes cultured on
coverslips and grown in DMEM overlaid with mineral oil using procedures
and microscopy equipment described previously (Cramer and Mitchison,
1993
). Fluorescence microscopy was performed using either Zeiss
Axiophot (Thornwood, NY) or Nikon (Melville, NY) microscopes. Photographs were taken on the Zeiss using conventional methods and Kodak Royal Gold 1000 film (Kodak, Rochester, NY). Images
acquired on the Zeiss microscope were digitized using a Sprint-35 negative scanner (Kodak, Rochester, NY). Images were acquired on the Nikon using a charge coupled device (CCD) camera (Princeton Instruments, Monmouth Junction, NJ) driven by Win-View software package. The Nikon microscope was used for data acquisition from all samples stained with Cy-5-conjugated antibodies because infrared emissions could only be detected by the CCD camera. Images presented in Figure 9 were acquired on a Nikon Confocal Microscope driven by a Bio-Rad (Hercules, CA) software package. The images shown
in Figure 9 are parfocal. All digitized images were manipulated using
Adobe Photoshop 4.0. Images in Figure 7, A-D, were acquired on a Zeiss
inverted microscope, which allowed the cell to be imaged in 0.4-µm
z-sections. The images were acquired on a CCD camera, and light from
planes not in focus was subtracted using wide-field deconvolution
algorithms developed by John Sedat (University of California, San
Francisco). The images were corrected for photobleaching of
fluorophores that accrued during sectioning.
Data Analysis
The data presented in this article are in the form of representative images of the observed phenotypes. Each experiment was repeated a minimum of four times, and within each experiment 10-30 images were acquired and scored for the morphological phenotype in question. In general the results were uniform. Each condition tested elicited a reproducible, qualitatively similar morphology in the population of cells (e.g., after 3 d of bFGF treatment, all astrocytes in the culture grew processes of greater than two cell diameters). Quantitative measurement of such features as process length were performed in low-density cultures using IP Lab software package. The software allowed processes on digitally acquired images to be traced with a cursor and measured. Quantitation of cells from organotypic slice cultures was performed on serial sections of images acquired on the confocal microscope. This ensured that cells scored as lacking processes did not have processes projecting orthogonally and allowed unequivocal definition of a cell as a neuron or astrocyte. Quantitation of process-bearing infected cells in slices of brain from injected animals proved more difficult. The needle penetration initiated marked angiogenesis, which autofluoresced in the FITC, rhodamine, and UV channels, although not in the infrared channel. Thus, although infected cells could be found in the Cy-5 channel, their identity as astrocyte or neuron very often could not be determined because of background autofluorescence in the other channel. As a result only a very small number of cells were counted.
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RESULTS |
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Effects of bFGF on Morphology of CA1/CA3 Hippocampal Astrocytes
To study morphological properties of astrocytes, we established
cultures from hippocampal CA1/CA3 regions derived from P0 rats.
Astrocytes were the predominant cell type in the cultures (>99%) and
were identified by their immunoreactivity to antibodies recognizing the
intermediate filament component GFAP (Bignami et
al., 1972
). Most GFAP-immunoreactive (GFAP+) cells
assumed a flattened ovoid morphology, displayed contact inhibition, and
did not grow processes (>95%) (Figure
1A). Time-lapse video microscopy showed
continuous elaboration of lamellipodia on the periphery of the cells
(our unpublished results).
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In the process of screening a panel of growth factors for effects on
astrocyte morphology, we found that treatment of cultures with bFGF
resulted in dramatic morphological changes in all GFAP+
cells. Some of these effects with bFGF have been reported previously (Perraud et al., 1988
). Effects of bFGF were evident after
24 h and were complete within 48 h, affecting all
GFAP+ cells in the culture, as seen in Figure 1B. Using
time-lapse video microscopy or
-GFAP staining, some regions of the
peripheral membrane were seen to retract, whereas other regions
extended to form long processes that grew across apposing cell bodies
and other processes. Time-lapse microscopy ruled out the possibility of
a subpopulation of process-bearing cells overtaking the culture. Quantitation of process lengths confirmed that bFGF caused process growth beyond the original boundaries of the cell. By contrast, dibutyryl cyclic AMP (dbcAMP) caused process formation as a result of
membrane retraction but not growth, in general agreement with previously published reports (Goldman and Abramson, 1990
; Baorto et al., 1992
). After 2.5 d of bFGF treatment, process
lengths ranged from 9 to 223 µm and averaged 62.4 ± 1.3 µm
(SEM; n = 634). By contrast, processes elicited with 2 mM dbcAMP
ranged from 8 to 116 µm and averaged 42 ± 0.8 µm (SEM; n = 516) in length, equivalent to the radius of untreated cells (mean,
40 ± 0.8 µm [SEM], n = 83; range 22-55 µm). The
difference in mean process length between cells treated with bFGF and
dbcAMP and the difference between process length of bFGF-treated cells
and the radii of untreated cells were statistically significant (p < 0.001; two-tailed t test). In contrast, the difference
between process length of dbcAMP-treated cells and radii of untreated
cells was not significant (p < 0.3).
The bFGF-induced processes of GFAP+ cells remained
refractory to staining with neuronal markers such as GAP-43 or
MAP-2. Actin staining revealed both filopodia and lamellipodia
at the tips of processes and along their lengths (Figure
2, E and F), a feature not evident with
dbcAMP treatment. The GFAP+ cells continued to exhibit
these morphological changes even after long-term exposure to bFGF (up
to 10 d, the longest time measured), and effects persisted for
several days after removal of bFGF. Another noteworthy feature of the
bFGF phenotype was the remarkable resemblance between the morphology of
the processes in cultured cells treated with bFGF and the morphology of
GFAP+ cells in organotypic slice cultures (Figure 1C), and
in brains from P3 (Figure 1D) or P17 animals (Figure 1E). Treatment of
cells with other growth factors, such as PDGF, NGF, TGF-
, or
leukemia inhibitory factor, produced no detectable morphological
changes. EGF, however, produced morphological changes indistinguishable from those observed with bFGF, although with a somewhat slower time
course.
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Cytoskeletal Rearrangements Underlie bFGF-induced Morphological Changes
To determine whether cytoskeletal proteins participate in the morphological changes observed with bFGF treatment, we visualized actin, tubulin, and the intermediate filament protein GFAP in bFGF-treated and untreated astrocytes. Figure 2, A-F, illustrates the effects of bFGF on the actin cytoskeleton at low (A, C, E) and high magnification (B, D, F). In untreated cells, actin was organized in bundles that extended in long parallel bands across the cells (Figure 2, A and B). In cells treated with bFGF for 1 d, the actin bundles were much less apparent (Figure 2, C and D) and had lost much of their parallel orientation. This actin reorganization occurred in areas where the membrane was retracting (Figure 2D, r). In addition such reorganization was evident in cells that had not yet developed processes nor progressed beyond the initial stages of retraction. In cells treated for 2-3 d with bFGF (Figure 2, E and F), actin stained robustly in long fibers that extended the length of the processes. Actin staining also revealed the presence of filopodia and lamellipodia (Figure 2F, f and l, respectively) at the tips of and along the processes (see also Figure 2E). These structures did not contain GFAP filaments (Figure 2F). Thus, with bFGF treatment, actin bundles appeared to be localized to extending processes but not to retracting areas.
To determine whether actin disassembly alone could account for the
morphological changes observed with bFGF, we treated cells with
cytochalasin D (Baorto et al., 1992
), which causes net actin depolymerization by blocking polymerization. Within 30 min,
cytochalasin D treatment resulted both in loss of actin bundles and in
membrane retraction. Although cytochalasin D treatment did produce
short processes from retracted membrane, these processes did not
extend, and filipodia and lamellipodia were not evident. Process growth could not be assessed over longer time courses (>3 h), however, because of the toxicity of cytochalasin D. Thus, net actin
depolymerization appears sufficient to produce the bFGF-induced
morphological changes associated with membrane retraction but does not
appear to account for process growth.
Other cytoskeletal elements, such as GFAP or tubulin, might participate with actin in the process growth induced by bFGF. Both GFAP and tubulin filament width increased before membrane retraction, becoming less apparent in retracting areas, and later extended into developing processes (for GFAP, compare insets in Figure 1, A and B); however, changes in actin appeared to precede changes in other filaments.
Effects of Ras Family GTPases on Astrocyte Morphology
Effects of Rac1 GTPase
To determine whether bFGF acted through Ras family GTPases to
cause the observed morphological changes, we set out to express various
alleles of rac1, rhoA, or Ha-ras
GTPases. These included alleles encoding wild-type proteins, proteins
with severely diminished GTP hydrolysis rates (activated, *), and
proteins with diminished capacity either to bind guanine nucleotides or
to exchange GDP for GTP (DN). All the GTPases reported in this article
except the RhoA-DN were tagged at the amino terminus with a myc
epitope, allowing detection of the protein by immunofluorescence with
the 9E10 mAb (Ramsay et al., 1984
). In cases where
myc-tagged and untagged versions of the same allele were compared, no
phenotypic differences were observed. RhoA-DN, as well as the
myc-tagged alleles, could be detected with commercially available
antisera (see MATERIALS AND METHODS). Detection of endogenous proteins with the commercial antisera revealed staining near background levels.
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Effects of RhoA GTPase
Because the morphological changes induced by bFGF required the
reorganization of actin bundles, we next asked whether the effects of
bFGF could be antagonized by agents that cause actin bundle formation.
We decided to test the effects of RhoA because it catalyzes actin
stress fiber and bundle formation in several cell types and because it
acts downstream of both growth factors and Rac1 as part of a GTPase
cascade in Swiss 3T3 fibroblasts (Ridley and Hall, 1992
).
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Effects of combinations of Rac1 and RhoA GTPases
The observation that Rac1* and RhoA* blocked and reversed
bFGF-induced changes led us to next ask whether Rac1* could reverse RhoA-DN effects and whether RhoA* could reverse Rac1-DN effects. Images
of cells infected with combinations of RhoA and Rac1 viruses are shown
in Figure 7. Cells infected with either
Rac1* plus RhoA-DN (Figure 7, A-D), or Rac1-DN plus RhoA* (Figure 7,
E-G) failed to grow processes or undergo membrane retraction. There
were, however, some notable differences in actin bundling patterns
(compare Figure 7, C and D, with G). Cells infected with Rac1-DN plus
RhoA* showed actin bundles identical to those observed in cells
infected with RhoA* alone (Figure 7G). In contrast, actin bundles in
cells infected with RhoA-DN plus Rac1* localized to the periphery of the cell (Figure 7C). Although actin appeared concentrated, GFAP staining remained diffuse. These results suggest that actin reorganizes to the cell periphery during process formation. Inhibition of RhoA
appears to redistribute actin to the periphery, and the level of Rac1
activity appears to regulate whether actin can polymerize at sites of
process formation or organize into processes.
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Effects of Ha-Ras GTPase
Recent reports have suggested that the Ha-Ras GTPase can
activate Rac1 and mediate growth factor effects on Rac1 in various cell
types (Ridley et al., 1992
). To determine whether Ha-Ras mediated bFGF's morphological effects, we constructed an adenovirus that expresses Ha-Ras15ala (Ha-Ras-DN), a mutant Ha-Ras
protein with severely compromised capacity to load any guanine
nucleotide which functions as a dominant negative (Chen et
al., 1994
). As shown in Figure
8, expression of Ha-Ras-DN had no
detectable effects on astrocyte morphology by itself (Figure 8, A and
B); however, Ha-Ras-DN expression was sufficient to block bFGF-induced
morphological changes (Figure 8, C and D). Ha-Ras-DN appeared to block
only bFGF-induced effects. Expression of equivalent levels of Ha-Ras-DN
failed to block Rac1-DN-induced effects (Figure 8, E and F) or
RhoA-DN-induced effects (Figure 8, G and H). Together, these results
suggest that Ha-Ras mediates bFGF effects and functions upstream of
Rac1 and RhoA.
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Effects of RhoA and Rac1 GTPases in Organotypic Cultures
We next set out to test the possibility that a GTPase cascade
similar to the one used by bFGF to produce processes in dissociated cultures of astrocytes might also be used in the more physiological setting of organotypic cultured brain tissue. Our data with the activated RhoA and Rac1 (Figures 4 and 5) show that these GTPases not
only inhibit but also reverse the bFGF effect. Thus, low levels of Rac1
and RhoA appear to be required not only to initiate but also to
maintain processes. A role for these GTPases in process maintenance
allowed us to assess the effects of activated alleles of Rac1 and RhoA
on astrocytes in organotypic hippocampal slice cultures. As in the
tissue culture experiments above, infected cells were detected by 9E10
staining, and their identity as astrocytes was confirmed by GFAP
staining. As shown in Figure 9, both
Rac1* and RhoA* caused astrocytes to lose their processes (a in Figure 9, C and E). Rac1* and RhoA* also had detectable although
different effects on neurons in the slices (n in Figure 9, D and insets in E). Rac1* had no gross effect on neuronal processes (n in
Figure 9D) but did appear to cause an increase in
filopodial-like structures on neuronal processes in some cells. RhoA*,
by contrast, caused neurons to retract their processes (Figure
9E, insets). Staining with neuronal markers such as MAP2
confirmed that process-bearing cells that remained unaffected by Rac1*
were indeed neurons. Likewise, some RhoA*-expressing cells lacking
processes stained with MAP2. These effects on neurons are not
inconsistent with previous reports for both Rac1 and RhoA in cultured
neuronal cell types (Kozma et al., 1997
; Leeuwen et
al., 1997
; see however, Threadgill et al., 1997
) or in
brain (Luo et al., 1996
). By contrast, GFP had no detectable
effect on either astrocytes (a in Figure 9A) or neurons (n in Figure
9B). On counting cells expressing GFAP, we found that only 11.7%
(n = 60 cells) of those additionally expressing Rac1*, and 8.3%
(n = 60 cells) of those additionally expressing RhoA*, exhibited
processes longer than one cell diameter. By contrast all cells
expressing GFP and GFAP had processes exceeding one cell diameter in
length (n = 60 cells). For neurons, identified by MAP2 staining,
nearly all Rac1*-expressing cells (98%; n = 60 cells) or
GFP-expressing cells (100%; n = 30 cells) displayed processes
compared with only 10% (n = 30 cells) for RhoA*-expressing cells.
Qualitatively similar results were obtained in live animals infected
with these viruses (our unpublished results).
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DISCUSSION |
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bFGF Causes Process Growth and Membrane Retraction in Dissociated Primary Culture
We have shown that treatment of primary cultured astrocytes with
bFGF results in membrane retraction accompanied by the extension of
actin-rich processes that bear a strong morphological resemblance to
GFAP+ astrocytes in animals (Figure 1, D and E) (see also
Misson et al., 1991
) and in hippocampal organotypic slice
cultures (Figure 1C). Our results suggest that bFGF acts through a
signal transduction cascade involving the Ha-Ras, Rac1, and RhoA
GTPases to cause membrane retraction and process growth. These gross
morphological changes appear to result from actin reorganization in the
cell soma and actin polymerization in the growing processes. The
changes in the actin cytoskeleton precede reorganization of other
cytoskeletal elements such as GFAP and tubulin.
What is the relationship between membrane retraction and process
growth? Baorto et al. (1992)
reported that dbcAMP, a
membrane-permeable cAMP analogue, induced actin bundle disassembly and
membrane retraction (or "cavitation"), and as a consequence,
"process" formation. Our results show that bFGF, Rac-DN, and
RhoA-DN cause not only membrane retraction but also process growth and
extension. Thus, process lengths were up to 1.8-fold longer with bFGF
or the DN GTPases compared with dbcAMP and the radii of untreated
cells. Although processes clearly form coincidentally with membrane
retraction in our study (Figures 2 and 3G), we often observed process
growth in cells whose membranes had not yet retracted (Figure 3C).
Therefore, process growth and membrane retraction appear to occur
independently, although our results suggest that somatic actin bundles
themselves must reorganize for growth to occur. Our finding that actin
filaments assemble in growing processes further suggests that
reorganization of actin bundles is not uniformly controlled throughout
the cell.
bFGF Initiates a GTPase Cascade
How do Ha-Ras, Rac1, and RhoA GTPases cause actin reorganization
and the consequent process growth and membrane retraction? Figure
10 shows a general model consistent
with all of our data. A central feature of this model is that in
untreated cells, Rac1 and RhoA have high basal activity,
perhaps as a result of serum in the media, which leads to lamellipodia
at the periphery and actin bundles across the soma. Our data with
dominant negative and activated alleles of Rac1 and RhoA (Figures 3-6)
provide evidence that these GTPases inhibit membrane retraction and
process growth, either directly or via the actin structures they
produce. bFGF causes process growth and membrane retraction by
relieving this inhibition. Experiments with the combinations of Ha-Ras,
Rac1, and RhoA alleles (Figures 7 and 8) define Ha-Ras as an upstream inhibitor of Rac1 and Rac1 as an upstream activator of RhoA (see below). Thus, bFGF acting through the Ha-Ras GTPase causes inhibition of the Rac1 GTPase, which in turn fails to activate RhoA. Once the
activity of Rac1 and RhoA diminishes, cells retract their membranes and
grow processes. This model relies on the assumption that the dominant
negative alleles used here only directly affect the activity of
endogenous GTPases of the same subtype and cannot exclude the
possibility that blocking a downstream effector results in
inappropriate or hyperactivity of upstream molecules, including other
GTPases.
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A Role for Ha-Ras in the bFGF Pathway
Our observation that Ha-Ras-DN blocks bFGF effects but not those
of dominant negative Rac1 and RhoA suggests that bFGF activates Ha-Ras,
which in turn inhibits Rac1 and RhoA; however, such a relationship
between Ha-Ras and Rac1 is unusual. In fibroblasts, Ha-Ras has been
reported to act, via PI-3 kinase (Rodriguez-Viciana et al.,
1997
), as an upstream activator of Rac1 or RhoA (Ridley et
al., 1992
).
Several factors might contribute to this difference. First, the
phenotypes were observed on different time scales in the two systems
(minutes to hours in the fibroblast system and days in the astrocyte
system). With time scales on the order of days, transcriptional
processes controlled by GTPases, or regulating their activity, could
change the configuration of the cascade. Second, the two systems also
differ with respect to the observed phenotypes (e.g., lamellipodia
versus process growth) and it remains plausible that differently
configured cascades control each. In addition, it is possible that
differences in cell type can account for the apparent inconsistencies.
In this regard, Cdc42 and/or Rac1 act in opposition to RhoA in
developing growth cones of N1E-115 cells (Kozma et al.,
1997
; Leeuwen et al., 1997
). Finally, we cannot rule out the
possibility that the Ha-Ras-DN allele inhibits other Ras subtypes or
otherwise acts nonspecifically. In this regard, biosafety
considerations precluded generation of an adenovirus harboring
the activated Ha-Ras allele.
Rac1 Activates RhoA in the bFGF Pathway
While both Rac1 and RhoA appear to be inhibited by bFGF, what is
their relationship to one another? In fibroblasts, Rac1 is considered
an upstream activator of RhoA, because Rac1* can produce not only
lamellipodia but also stress fibers, and stress fiber production is
blocked by RhoA-DN (Ridley and Hall, 1992
; Nobes and Hall, 1995
). RhoA*
by contrast only produces stress fibers. We set out to order Rac1 and
RhoA in astrocytes (Figure 7) by initiating process growth with Rac1-DN
or Rho-DN and asking whether an activated allele of the opposite GTPase
type could block. If Rac1 were upstream of RhoA as in the fibroblast
system, then RhoA* would be expected to block Rac1-DN effects, and
Rac1* would have no effect on Rho-A-DN effects.
Our observation that both combinations of GTPases blocked process growth and membrane retraction (Figure 7) did not at first appear to support an epistatic relationship reminiscent of that in the fibroblast system; however, closer examination of more subtle morphological changes such as actin and process shape revealed a pattern that was still consistent with Rac1 as an upstream activator of RhoA. In particular, actin bundles were restricted to the periphery of cells infected with Rac1* plus RhoA-DN (Figure 7, C and F). By contrast, actin appeared bundled throughout cells expressing Rac1-DN plus RhoA*, a pattern identical to that seen in untreated cells (Figure 2, A and B). We reasoned that were RhoA upstream of Rac1, bFGF treatment of Rac1*-infected cells would cause inhibition of endogenous RhoA and therefore recapitulate the conditions produced by coexpression of Rac1* and RhoA-DN; however, in bFGF-treated cells infected with Rac1*, actin appeared bundled throughout the cell and not restricted to the periphery (our unpublished results), a result consistent with Rac1 as an upstream activator of RhoA but not the other way around.
A model where Rac1 acts as an upstream activator of RhoA also accounts
for other more subtle phenotypes. For example, the girth of
RhoA-DN-induced processes appeared fivefold wider than that observed
with bFGF or Rac1-DN. Such wide girths were not evident in cells
infected with RhoA-DN plus Rac1-DN (our unpublished results). Thus, the
wider girth could result from high endogenous Rac1 activity causing
lamellipodia to extend orthogonally along the length of each process.
The effect of Rac1 on process girth described here may be similar to
the wider girths apparent on processes of NGF-treated PC12 cells that
overexpress Rac1* or PAK alleles (Daniels et al., 1998
).
Finally, actin bundles were not evident in cells expressing Rac1-DN
(Figure 3D), as expected if Rac1 acts upstream of RhoA.
Selective Inhibition of Rac1 Activity by bFGF
Some of our data support the possibility that bFGF regulates the extent to which Rac1 activity is inhibited or the cellular locale where inhibition occurs as a means of producing more subtle morphological phenotypes than process growth. For example, after bFGF treatment, lamellipodia appear on and along processes (Figure 2F). Lamellipodia in astrocytes, as in other systems, depend on endogenous Rac1 activity because none were evident in cells infected with Rac1-DN (Figure 3). Thus, while bFGF inhibits Rac1 activity enough to produce processes, it does not necessarily do so entirely or everywhere. The effects of bFGF stand in contrast to those of Rac1-DN, which when expressed throughout the cells produces processes without lamellipodia. The level of Rac1 activity may also affect the shape of processes. For example, RhoA-DN can still produce processes, albeit wider ones perhaps caused by unchecked levels of endogenous Rac1 activity, but overexpression of Rac1* precludes process growth under any conditions (e.g., in cells treated with bFGF or expressing RhoA-DN). Thus, bFGF may regulate the degree or locale of Rac1 activity or both to control not only whether processes form but also what shape they assume. We have indicated these locale- and activity-dependent effects of Rac1 on process growth in Figure 10 as an additional inhibitory pathway (dashed line). We speculate that molecules causing processes to form at distinct sites on the cell periphery, or causing actin to orient into growing processes, are negatively regulated by Rac1. bFGF might abrogate such inhibition, thereby allowing actin bundles polymerizing at distinct sites to cause membrane extrusion. bFGF also reorganizes actin in the soma by inhibiting Rac1 and RhoA to allow the membrane to retract. An important test of our model will be to measure the subcellular distribution of endogenous Rac1 and RhoA activity.
Process Growth in Neurons Versus Astrocytes: Cell Type-Specific Differences in GTPase Coupling
Several lines of evidence and data presented here suggest that the
GTPase cascade controlling process growth is configured differently in
neurons and astrocytes. In both neurons and astrocytes, RhoA appears to
inhibit process growth (Figure 9E), whereas Rac1 activity appears
inhibitory to astrocyte process growth (Figure 9C) but supports
neuronal process growth (Figure 9D) (see also Kozma et al.,
1997
; Leeuwen et al., 1997
), as well as the development of
ancillary structures such as dendritic spines in vivo (Luo et
al., 1996
). Moreover, Rac1 and RhoA activity do not appear to be
coupled in neurons as they are in astrocytes and fibroblasts. Indeed,
in the growth cone, these GTPases appear to antagonize one another
(Kozma et al., 1997
; Leeuwen et al., 1997
). These differences in coupling may provide an explanation for why neurons, but
not astrocytes, can regrow processes in culture. Thus, in neurons,
culture conditions that activate Rac1 inhibit RhoA and support process
growth, whereas in astrocytes, activating Rac1 and in turn RhoA
inhibits process growth. We suggest that cell-type or
locale-specific differences in the configuration of the cascade may
be the rule rather than the exception when considering GTPase involvement in gross morphological changes such as process growth or
even cell migration and scattering (Ridley et al., 1995
),
activities that require complex cytoskeletal reorganization in
different parts of the cell.
A GTPase Cascade Controls the Maintenance of Astrocyte Processes in Cultured Brain Tissue
Our results with the GTPases in organotypic slices (Figure 9)
provide evidence that astrocytes in a more native setting than tissue
culture must maintain Rac1 and RhoA activity at low levels to maintain
their morphology. Although the relevance of these findings to astrocyte
process growth in vivo remains uncertain, they do raise the testable
possibility that the cascade we have defined here might apply in vivo.
In this scenario, an as yet undetermined endogenous factor triggers the
GTPase cascade. Several lines of evidence suggest that the signal
derives from neurons. For example, neurons cause astrocyte process
growth in vitro (Hatten, 1985
; Gasser and Hatten, 1990
), and astrocyte
processes grow when electrical activity in neurons is blocked in vivo
(Rubel and MacDonald, 1992
). Although our results provide no evidence
for a role for bFGF in vivo, it is a reasonable candidate. Astrocytes
in the brain have FGF receptors (el-Husseini et al., 1994
;
Morrison et al., 1994
; Gonzalez et al., 1995
) and
both neurons and astrocytes synthesize FGF (Hatten et al.,
1988
; Gonzalez et al., 1995
). Experiments with knockout mice
have not yet defined a role for FGF receptor family members or ligands
in astrocyte process growth, perhaps owing to functional redundancy
among ligand and receptor family members or to early embryonic
lethality (Arman et al., 1998
). Other growth factors must be
considered candidates as well. Several growth factors that have been
reported to affect astrocyte morphology, including Bone Morphogenic
Protein (Gross et al., 1996
), the cytokine interleukin 1
(Liu et al., 1994
), acidic FGF (Perraud et al., 1988
), and the neurotransmitter glutamate (Cornell-Bell et
al., 1990
), are also likely candidates.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS |
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We express our gratitude to the following investigators for gifts of reagents and use of equipment: Lisa Stowers and John Chant for PAK plasmids, Geoff Clark and Channing Der for RhoA plasmids, Michael Anderson for GFP plasmids, Tim Mitchison and members of his laboratory for use of microscopy equipment, Orion Weiner for help with deconvolution imaging, John Sedat for use of microscopy equipment, Lucy O'Brien for help with confocal imaging, Jack Parent and Anil Baghari for advice on organotypic cultures, and Christian Billante and Sue Giller for technical assistance. We thank Henry Bourne, Aneil Mallavarapu, Roger Nicoll, Lucy O'Brien, Louis Reichardt, and Ben Barres for commenting on an earlier version of this manuscript and for their helpful discussion. Yoram Altschuler, Keith Mostov, and Roger Nicoll provided invaluable advice and assistance. We also acknowledge Louise Cramer for her prescient advice at the outset of the project, and Aneil Malavarapu and Michael Anderson for their enlightening and invaluable discussion. S.N.G. was supported by a University of California at San Francisco Medical Scientist Training Program training grant (GM07618) and by an ARCS award. This work was supported by a grant from the National Cancer Institute (R35CA44338) to J.M.B.
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FOOTNOTES |
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Corresponding author. E-mail address:
kalman{at}cgl.ucsf.edu.
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ABBREVIATIONS |
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Abbreviations used: Ad, adenovirus; bFGF, basic fibroblast growth factor; CMV, cytomegalovirus; dbcAMP, dibutyryl cyclic AMP; DN, dominant negative; GFAP, glial fibrillary acidic protein; GFP, Green Fluorescent Protein; LIF, leukemia inhibitory factor; NGF, nerve growth factor; PAK, p21-activated kinase.
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REFERENCES |
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