October 06, 2014
The Expression pages have been redesigned and now include a clickable histogram depicting conditions and datasets in which the gene of interest is up- or down-regulated. Expression data are derived from records contained in the Gene Expression Omnibus, and datasets are assigned one or more categories to facilitate grouping, filtering and browsing. Short descriptions of the focus of each experiment are also provided. The PCL files generated for each dataset are used to populate the expression analysis tool SPELL. Also included on the pages are network diagrams which display genes that share expression profiles. The Expression pages provide seamless access to the SPELL tool at SGD, as well as external resources such as Cyclebase, GermOnline, YMGV and FuncBase.
Please explore these new pages, accessible via the Expression tab on your favorite Locus Summary page, and send us your feedback.
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Categories: New Data, Website changes
October 02, 2014

Just like Justin Bieber’s hair, cells make sure telomeres are always the exact right length. Image from Wikimedia Commons
Have you ever noticed that the length of your hair is just right for a small window of time? Too short, and you feel a little exposed – too long, and it gets in your face.
Like your hair, the telomeres at the ends of your chromosomes have a length that is just right for them (and you). Telomeres are non-coding sequences of DNA added to the ends of chromosomes that protect the important DNA there from being lost. Telomeres that are too long may contribute to cancer; while telomeres that are too short are associated with aging.
It makes sense, then, that telomere length should be carefully regulated (just as, in a perfect world, you might want to keep your hair the perfect length all the time). The enzyme that adds the non-coding DNA sequences to the end of chromosomes, telomerase, is composed of highly conserved subunits. In yeast, this enzyme is a quaternary complex composed of the regulatory subunits Est1 and Est3, the catalytic subunit Est2, and the RNA template component, TLC1.
Previously, it was thought that telomerase was primed for action whenever it was needed in the cell. But this does not seem to be the case.
In a recent publication in Genes & Development, Tucey et al. showed that, in addition to the active quaternary telomerase complex, two subcomplexes – a preassembly complex and a disassembled complex – were also present in the cell. Each of these subcomplexes lacked one subunit compared with the active telomerase, and the missing subunit was different for each subcomplex.
So, how did the authors discover these subcomplexes? Using a special immunoprecipitation protocol, one of the first things the researchers noticed was that Est1, Est2, and the TLC1 RNA were associated with each other throughout G1 and S phase, but that Est3 was missing from the complex during G1 phase and present only at very low levels throughout S phase. They called this Est1-TLC1-Est2 complex the “preassembly complex.”
In fact, Est3 was only appreciably associated with the preassembly complex during G2/M and late in the cell cycle. And, even then, only 25% of the preassembly complex was associated with Est3 to form the active quaternary complex. So the presence of the active holoenzyme was regulated with respect to the cell cycle.
Since Est3 was not always bound to the preassembly complex, the authors set out to determine what was required for Est3 binding. They found that neither Est1 nor Est2 could bind Est3 if it was unable to bind TLC1 RNA. Thus, the RNA component of the presassembly complex was necessary for its two other subunits to form an active telomerase by binding to Est3.
In addition, they determined that both Est1 and Est2 contained binding surfaces for Est3, and that both of these surfaces were required for the full association of Est3 with the preassembly complex. So Est3 interacts directly with each of the other protein subunits to form the active telomerase.
There was still one more question that intrigued Tucey and coworkers – Est3 appeared to exist in excess compared with the other subunits, so why did it have such limited association with the rest of the telomerase subunits? This suggested some sort of inhibitory regulation of Est3.
Indeed, the authors uncovered an Est3 mutant, Est3-S113Y, which appeared to have lost the ability to be inhibited. This mutant exhibited elongated telomeres and increased association with telomerase, and was associated with the preassembly complex in G1 phase rather than being restricted to late in the cell cycle. This mutation lies directly adjacent to Est3’s binding domain, leading the authors to conclude that Est3 is regulated by a “toggle switch” that specifies whether or not it can bind to the preassembly complex.
As mentioned previously, the authors also saw evidence of a second subcomplex during their studies. When they drilled down on the components, they identified a “disassembly complex” that lacks only Est2, in contrast to the preassembly complex that lacks Est3. They determined that this subcomplex is inactive and requires the prior formation of the quaternary complex since its formation requires Est2 binding to TLC1, just as is observed for the preassembly complex.
Given the cell’s desire to have telomeres that aren’t too long and aren’t too short, it makes sense that the enzyme that lengthens them is regulated. There is a toggle switch that signals formation of the active complex and, once formed, the active complex is transient, dissociating its catalytic subunit to become inactive. This regulation ensures that telomerase is active only late in the cell cycle. Just as you might work to keep your hair just the right length, the cell regulates telomerase to keep the lengths of telomeres from getting out of control.
by Selina Dwight, Ph.D., Senior Biocurator, SGD
Categories: Research Spotlight
Tags: aging, protein complex, telomerase, telomere
September 25, 2014
One of the great joys of teaching can be found in the questions that students ask. Because they are unconstrained by previous knowledge, they can think outside of the box and ask questions that force the teacher to see a problem in a new light. Their unbiased questions often uncover aspects of a problem that a teacher didn’t think to look for or even consider.

Looking at a problem from a different angle can reveal something you couldn’t see before. Note either faces or a vase, a rabbit or a duck! Images from Wikimedia Commons
The scientific enterprise can be very similar. Sometimes an unbiased search of a process will uncover hidden parts scientists were completely unaware of.
This is exactly what happened in a new study in Science by Foresti and coworkers. Using an unbiased proteomics approach they found a previously hidden part of the endoplasmic reticulum-associated degradation (ERAD) pathway in the inner nuclear membrane (INM) of the yeast Saccharomyces cerevisiae. No one knew it existed before and, frankly, no one even knew to look! By thinking outside of the box, these authors found that a novel protein complex in the INM targets certain proteins for degradation – both misfolded proteins, and some correctly folded proteins whose functions are no longer needed.
Scientists already knew that the ERAD pathway uses different protein complexes to target proteins for degradation, depending on where those proteins are located. For example, misfolded cytoplasmic proteins are targeted by a complex containing Doa10 (also known as Ssm4), while those in the membrane are targeted by the Hrd1 complex. However, degradation of both sets of proteins requires ubiquitination by the shared subunit Ubc7. In addition to targeting misfolded proteins, both of these complexes also target certain functional proteins in response to specific conditions.
In the first set of experiments, Foresti and coworkers looked at the proteomes of strains deleted individually for Doa10, Hrd1, or Ubc7. To their surprise, they found a set of proteins, including Erg11 and Nsg1, that are unaffected by the deletion of either Doa10 or Hrd1, but whose levels are increased in strains deleted for Ubc7. This suggested there is a branch of the ERAD pathway that involves Ubc7 but is independent of Doa10 and Hrd1. The authors set out to find this undiscovered third branch lurking somewhere within the yeast.
Some possible candidates for being part of the ERAD pathway were two paralog proteins Asi1 and Asi3, and their associated protein Asi2. Based on their sequences, Asi1 and Asi3 are putative ubiquitin-protein ligases like Doa10 and Hrd1. Interestingly, all three Asi proteins localize to the inner nuclear membrane, which connects to the ER at nuclear pores.
When Foresti and coworkers deleted any one of the three Asi proteins, degradation of Erg 11 and Nsg1, both involved in sterol synthesis, was blocked. However deletion of Asi1, Asi2, or Asi3 didn’t affect all proteins involved in sterol biosynthesis, since Erg1 was unaffected. Biochemical experiments confirmed that Erg11 binds to a complex composed of these three Asi proteins.
Since the ERAD pathway is important for degradation of misfolded proteins, the authors set out next to determine whether the Asi complex plays a role in this process as well. That would be a somewhat surprising finding, since misfolded proteins aren’t generally found near the INM. But through a complicated set of experiments summarized below, Foresti and coworkers confirmed that the Asi complex does also have a role in this process.
They first tested several proteins that are known ERAD substrates, but mutations in the ASI genes had no measurable effect on them. Because some misfolded proteins are targeted by more than one ERAD complex, the authors next looked to see whether the Asi pathway contributed to either the Hrd1 or the Doa10 pathways. Testing the accumulation of several substrates in strains with different combinations of asi, hrd1, and doa10 mutations, they found that one mutant protein that misfolds, Sec61-2, had high steady state levels in a hrd1 knockout, but even higher steady state levels in a double knockout of hrd1 and asi1 or hrd1 and asi3. So both the Asi and Hrd1 pathways appeared to work on this misfolded protein.
The researchers hypothesized that the Asi branch may target misfolded proteins for degradation as they travel through the inner nuclear membrane on the way to the ER. To test this idea, they compared the steady state levels and localizations of two differently mutated versions of the Sec61 protein – one that localized to the inner nuclear membrane and one that did not, in both wild-type cells and a variety of deletion strains.
The bottom line from these experiments was that the mutant protein that was located at the inner nuclear membrane was more dependent on the Asi complex than the mutant that wasn’t. Not only that, but the mutant Sec61 protein that was directed to the inner nuclear membrane changed its localization to the nuclear envelope in an asi1 deletion strain. Both of these results are consistent with a role for the Asi complex in targeting proteins for degradation while they are in the inner nuclear membrane.
The final set of experiments confirmed the importance of the Asi complex in ER protein quality control. Yeast responds to the presence of too many misfolded proteins in the ER with a signaling pathway called the unfolded protein response (UPR). Strains in which this pathway is compromised, for instance by deleting IRE1, need a functional ERAD to thrive. The authors found that deleting HRD1, IRE1, and ASI1 had a much more severe effect on viability than did just deleting HRD1 and IRE1. This supports the idea that the Asi complex is important in ER protein quality control.
Foresti and coworkers have thus uncovered a previously undiscovered branch of the ERAD pathway in yeast by doing a broad, unbiased proteomics study. The key proteins they identified, Asi1, Asi2, and Asi3, were originally discovered for their genetic effects on the transcriptional repression of amino acid permeases (hence their name, Amino acid Signaling Independent). Their detailed biochemical functions were unknown until now.
A lesson here is that just because a process looks like it is pretty well locked down, this doesn’t mean that there aren’t hidden parts yet to be discovered. And just because a gene is implicated in one process, don’t assume it isn’t also involved in other processes as well. Looking from a different angle can allow you to see things you had missed before.
by D. Barry Starr, Ph.D., Director of Outreach Activities, Stanford Genetics
Categories: Research Spotlight
Tags: ERAD, inner nuclear membrane, Saccharomyces cerevisiae, ubiquitin-mediated degradation
September 16, 2014

Variations in MKT1 do not have as profound an effect on alcohol tolerance in yeast as do variations in ALDH2 in people, but MKT1 is definitely a big player. Image from Wikimedia Commons
Different people can respond to alcohol differently because of their genes. For example, many Asians flush or even become ill from alcohol because of a mutation in their ALDH2 gene. (This is not just a minor annoyance—these unpleasant side effects come with a significant increase in esophageal cancer rates.)
This is a simple example where one gene has a significant effect. But of course, not everything to do with people and alcohol is so simple at the genetic level!
For example, some people can drink you under the table while others are lightweights. Some of this has to do with their lifestyle (how often they drink, how much they weigh, etc.), but a lot undoubtedly has to do with the variations they carry in multiple genes.
Well, it turns out this is also the case for yeast (our friend in the alcohol business). A new paper in GENETICS by Lewis and coworkers confirms that different strains of the yeast Saccharomyces cerevisiae tolerate high levels of alcohol differently because of their specific genetics. And at first the response seems…shall we say…incapacitatingly complex.
The results are interesting in that they help parse out how yeast responds to ethanol, but the implications are more far-reaching than that. This analysis helps to form the framework for investigating how natural variation in gene expression can affect the traits of individuals and their responses to certain environmental stimuli.
Lewis and coworkers used three strains in their study: a lab strain that came from everyone’s favorite workhorse S288c, the strain M22 from a vineyard, and the oak soil strain YPS163. They had previously shown that thousands of genes in each strain responded differently to 5% ethanol. In this study they set out to find out what was behind these differences.
First off they wanted to confirm their previous results. Using six biological replicates, they found that 3,287 genes out of a total of 6,532 were affected in at least one strain when treated for 30 minutes with 5% ethanol. This is over half the genes in the genome!
To try to get a handle on what is causing such widespread effects, they next performed eQTL mapping in 45 F2 crosses of S288c X M22 and S288c X YPS163 (these particular matings were chosen because much of the variation they saw was in S288c). This analysis was designed to try to find “hotspots” in the genome: loci that affected many different transcripts, or that could account for all the variation they saw.
When they did this analysis they found 37 unique hotspots. Each hotspot represented 20-1,200 different transcripts, with a median of 37 transcripts. Of these, 15 were seen in both crosses, 12 in just the S288c X M22 and 10 in the S288c X YPS163 matings. No silver bullet, but 37 is certainly easier to work with than 3,287!
Lewis and coworkers next set out to find the key gene(s) in the hotspots responsible for affecting multiple transcripts in the presence of ethanol. Some were easy to find. For example, HAP1 in S288c and CYS4 in M22 X S288c. But the big prize in this analysis probably goes to MKT1, which affected over 1,000 transcripts in this study.
Now MKT1 is not one of the usual suspects, in that it is not a transcription factor. However, MKT1 has been implicated in lots of observed differences between strains, including alcohol tolerance in one Brazilian overproduction strain. Given this, the authors set out to explore whether there were any differences in Mkt1p activity in response to ethanol in the different strains.
This analysis revealed that Mkt1p localizes to P-bodies upon ethanol stress in S288C but not YPS163. And this wasn’t some general defect in Mkt1p, since it is known to colocalize with P-bodies in both strains in response to hypo-osmotic stress.
With this discovery, things were starting to make a bit more sense! Since P-bodies are involved in mRNA turnover, it follows that a P-body component might affect so many transcripts. One potential explanation might be that Mkt1p serves as a regulator by translationally silencing specific mRNAs at P-body loci. This would be consistent with its known role in translational regulation of the HO transcript.
This study reveals how difficult it is to get to the bottom of determining exactly how massive differences in gene expression lead to differences in traits. But it also shows that while daunting, it is doable. And perhaps yeast can show us how best to interrogate our own differences in gene expression to help figure out why we are the way we are—not only in terms of whether we dance on the tables or fall to the floor after a few drinks, but in many other respects as well.
by D. Barry Starr, Ph.D., Director of Outreach Activities, Stanford Genetics
Categories: Research Spotlight
Tags: eQTL mapping, ethanol response, Saccharomyces cerevisiae, transcription regulation
September 15, 2014
Have you ever wondered about the role played by the homolog of a particular yeast gene in other fungal species? SGD’s advanced search tool, YeastMine, can now be used to find homologs of your favorite Saccharomyces cerevisiae genes in the pathogenic yeast, Candida glabrata. There are now 25 species of pathogenic and non-pathogenic fungi in YeastMine, including S. cerevisiae.
The fungal homologs of a given S. cerevisiae gene can be found using the template called “Gene –> Fungal Homologs.” Fungal homology data comes from various sources including FungiDB, the Candida Gene Order Browser (CGOB), the Yeast Gene Order Browser (YGOB), the Candida Genome Database (CGD), the Aspergillus Genome Database (AspGD) and PomBase, and the results link directly to the corresponding homolog gene pages in the relevant databases.
A results table is generated after each query and the identifiers and standard names for the fungal homologs are listed in the table. As with other YeastMine templates, results can be saved as lists for further analysis. You can also create a list of yeast gene names and/or identifiers using the updated Create Lists feature that allows you to specify the organism representing the genes in your list. The query for homologs can then be made against the custom gene list.
All of the new templates that query fungal homolog data can be found on the YeastMine Home page under the “Homology” tab. This template complements the template “Gene → Non-Fungal and S. cerevisiae Homologs” that retrieves homologs of S. cerevisiae genes in humans, rats, mice, worms, flies, mosquitos, and zebrafish.
We invite you to watch SGD’s YeastMine Fungal Homologs video tutorial (also available below) for tips on accessing Fungal Homolog data at SGD. You can view all Video Tutorials for YeastMine here.
Categories: Homologs, New Data, Tutorial
September 11, 2014
If you think back really hard to your basic molecular biology classes you can probably remember that weird nucleotide pseudouridine (ψ). You probably learned that it is found in lots of tRNAs and rRNAs but never in mRNA. You also may remember that while its function is still a bit unclear, it may have something to do with RNA stability and/or helping aminoacyl transferases interact with tRNAs.

Like this monument to Stalin that was dynamited in 1962, old dogmas like pseudouridine’s absence from mRNA are being cleared away with help from yeast. Images from Wikimedia Commons
If a new paper in Nature holds up, one of those things we learned is almost certainly wrong. In this study, Carlile and coworkers show pretty convincingly that ψ is also found in mRNA. And not only that, but it may be doing something important there.
The authors used a sensitive high-throughput technique called Pseudo-seq to look for ψ in all the RNA in a yeast cell. The first step in this technique is to treat the RNA with a chemical called CMC.* This chemical reacts with ψ in such a way as to create a block to reverse transcriptase. In other words, reverse transcriptase can only convert RNA into DNA up to the point of a ψ. The next step is to analyze the products and to determine where reverse transcriptase has been halted.
Carlile and coworkers first validated their technique by looking at RNAs known to have ψ’s. They showed that their technique had an estimated false discovery rate of 5% for highly expressed genes and 12.5% for poorly expressed genes. They were now ready to tackle mRNA to see what they could find.
They first looked at the mRNA of the yeast Saccharomyces cerevisiae during post-diauxic growth (after log phase) and found 260 ψ’s in 238 protein coding transcripts. This is 260 more ψ’s than had been found before.
The next step was to try to get a feel for whether or not these changes were important. To do this, they decided to compare pseudouridylation (we promise not to use that word again!) in log phase and post-diauxic growth. They found that 42% of the sites modified after log phase were not modified during log phase. In other words, it looks like the level of mRNA modification is different depending upon the growth rate.
Uracils are modified to ψ by a surprisingly large number of enzymes. One enzyme, Cbf5p, uses snoRNA guide sequences to find the right uracils to modify. Cbf5p may not be that important for converting U’s to ψ’s in mRNA , however, since only 3/260 of the sites identified by the authors appeared to be targeted by this enzyme.

E. coli pseudouridine synthase. Image from Wikimedia Commons
The other nine known enzymes in yeast all have the rather unfortunate acronym “PUS,” for PseudoUridine Synthase. Carlile and coworkers tested the effects of individually deleting eight of these on their newly identified ψ sites in mRNA and found that deleting PUS1 affected the highest number of mRNAs. Interestingly, many of the Pus1p target sites were modified more often during post-diauxic growth than during exponential growth. Deleting the other PUS genes had similar, if smaller, effects.
The authors next confirmed that something similar happens in human cells. Using very strict criteria, they identified 96 ψ’s in 89 human mRNAs and found that some of these were regulated by growth conditions (serum starvation), just as in yeast. So, modification of mRNAs with this interesting residue appears to happen in people too (or at least in HeLa cells).
Finding ψ’s in mRNA is a big contradiction to everything we’ve been taught! The next step is to figure out what they are doing there, and there are lots of possible answers.
One possibility is that the newly discovered mRNA modifications make possible a whole new set of translated proteins. Adding a ψ to mRNA changes codon usage at that position in vitro. For example, one study found that converting the stop codons UAA and UGA to ψAA and ψGA, respectively, changed them from stop codons into sense codons both in vitro and in vivo. So ψ’s in mRNAs could cause a whole slew of new alleles to appear under certain conditions – at the RNA level instead of the DNA level. A proteomics study should help determine whether this is happening or not.
Another possibility has to do with the fact that ψ’s make an RNA more stable. Making certain mRNAs more stable could increase the number of protein molecules they can produce: yet another way to affect gene expression post-transcriptionally. A stability study of mRNA and/or more proteomics might help determine whether this is the function of the unusual modifications.
Whatever the reason, it definitely looks like another bit of biological dogma has been overturned with the help of our faithful and reliable friend yeast. Yes Virginia, mRNA almost certainly has the modified nucleotide ψ. And, as usual, thanks to yeast for teaching us the fundamentals of our own basic biology.
* CMC stands for N-cyclohexyl-N′-(2-morpholinoethyl)carbodiimide metho-p-toluenesulphonate
by D. Barry Starr, Ph.D., Director of Outreach Activities, Stanford Genetics
Categories: Research Spotlight
Tags: pseudouridine, RNA modification, Saccharomyces cerevisiae
September 04, 2014
Imagine you were designing a factory to make a very special product. You’d study the process carefully, buy the right equipment, and bring in the right people.

To make a tricky product you need to have the right factory, workers and machinery. And if you’re making opiate drugs, then yeast makes a great factory! Image from Wikimedia Commons
So if one step made a lot of dust, while another step had to be dust-free – you’d be sure to separate them into different rooms of your factory. And you’d make sure that the instructions were written in a language that your experts could understand!
In a new paper in Nature Chemical Biology, Thodey and coworkers designed a factory in just this way to make some very important molecules: the opiate drugs that millions of people rely on every day to control pain. Because of this new factory, opium poppies won’t be needed for making these drugs (although they’ll still be very pretty!). The factory’s location: inside cells of our favorite yeast, S. cerevisiae.
The researchers first tried to coax the yeast to produce the natural opiates morphine and codeine. They recruited experts in the field (or, from the field), taking three opium poppy genes for enzymes in the opiate synthesis pathway: thebaine 6-O-demethylase (T6ODM), codeine O-demethylase (CODM), and codeinone reductase (COR).
Of course, simply transforming yeast with a plant gene doesn’t do much good. Yeast and poppies don’t speak the same language at the transcription level (and even their translation dialects are hard to understand). So the researchers put the poppy genes under the control of efficient yeast transcriptional regulatory sequences such as promoters and terminators, and optimized their codons for yeast.
Thodey and colleagues tweaked the system to try to steer it in the direction of the products they wanted. They fed the yeast additional monosodium glutamate and glutamine to increase intracellular levels of 2-oxoglutarate, which is required during catalysis by the T6ODM and CODM enzymes. They also varied the relative expression levels of the three poppy enzymes by varying the copy numbers of their genes in yeast.
Although these tweaks improved things, almost half the product was still the undesirable neomorphine. To address this, the researchers looked even more closely at the details of the pathway.
When morphine synthesis is going right, the neopinone made by T6ODM spontaneously rearranges to the codeinone that COR uses to continue along the pathway. But if COR grabs the neopinone before there is time for the rearrangement, the end result of the pathway is neomorphine, which does no one any good.
When you design a factory, it’s important that your assembly line doesn’t move too fast! In the yeast factory, when neopinone gets to the COR enzyme too quickly, the end result is not what you want – although maybe not this messy.
Going back to their blueprint, Thodey and colleagues decided to separate T6ODM and COR into different parts of the factory, to allow more time for this rearrangement. They added a tag to COR that would direct it to the endoplasmic reticulum membrane, while T6ODM stayed in the cytoplasm. Now it would take longer for neopinone to reach COR, giving it plenty of time to rearrange into codeinone. Sure enough, morphine production went way up.
This was great, but the researchers decided to take it a step further. Semisynthetic opioids such as hydrocodone, oxycodone, and hydromorphone are medically useful because they work better in some cases than the natural opiates. Currently, these are produced by chemical modification of the opiates produced by poppies. Could yeast do this job too? Of course!
Turning to different expert workers, Thodey and colleagues tried expressing the enzymes NADP+-dependent morphine dehydrogenase (morA) and NADH-dependent morphinone reductase (morB) from the bacterium Pseudomonas putida* along with the poppy enzymes. Again, the process needed a lot of tweaking, more than we can describe here. But the end result was a strain that produced both hydrocodone and oxycodone.
Putting together all their results, the researchers were able to construct three yeast strains, each like an assembly line tailored for different products. One assembly line is optimized for codeine and morphine, another for hydromorphone, and one for hydrocodone and oxycodone.
The next steps will be to scale up this process to industrial levels, and also to construct yeast strains that carry out the entire process starting from simple sugars, rather than needing to be fed the precursor thebaine. Substituting yeast cultures for opium poppy fields will have a huge global impact that goes far beyond pharmaceutical production.
It’s important to note that this factory could never have been constructed without knowing how to make its fundamental building blocks. Basic research in yeast molecular biology and genetics, which may seem arcane to some, was essential to provide the knowledge necessary to express and manipulate these foreign genes in yeast. Just another reason that we’re “high” on yeast research!
* Read more about Pseudomonas putida, a bacterial workhorse with an appetite for all kinds of weird substances.
by Maria Costanzo, Ph.D., Senior Biocurator, SGD
Categories: Research Spotlight
Tags: opiate biosynthesis, pathway engineering, Saccharomyces cerevisiae
August 28, 2014

No matter how fancy, all masks hide the identity of a wearer. And no matter how fancy an RNase P is, all it likely does is trim tRNA precursors. Images from Wikimedia Commons
Masks for a masquerade party come in a dazzling array of shapes and sizes. And yet they all pretty much serve the same purpose — they hide the identity of the wearer.
Biology sometimes has its own dazzling array of cellular machines all doing the same thing. One of the best examples of this is RNase P. This enzyme trims tRNA precursors into mature tRNAs and has pretty much been around in one form or another since there were cells. And yet, despite this common heritage and its one apparent job, it seems that no two are exactly alike.
In bacteria, RNase P is a piece of RNA that serves as the enzymatic component, complexed with a single protein. Most Archaea and eukaryotes kept the RNA and added a varying number of protein subunits to make some wildly complex enzymes. But in a few eukaryotes, the RNA has been dropped completely and a single protein substituted to provide the enzymatic activity.
A new study out in PLOS Biology by Weber and coworkers shows that, despite this structural diversity, all the different forms of RNase P pretty much do the same thing. Just like someone can hide who they are with any old mask, a cell can trim its tRNA precursors with any old RNase P. Well, at least the simple RNase P of Arabidopsis thaliana, comprised of a single enzymatic protein subunit, can replace the enzymatic RNA and at least one protein subunit from the much more complex RNase P of our friend Saccharomyces cerevisiae!
This suggests that evolution has done something weird here. It took what most likely started out as an RNA enzyme and made various changes to it over time. Despite these changes, the enzyme kept doing the same thing: trimming tRNA precursors. It is as if the enzyme went through a bewildering set of evolutionary changes and ended up at nearly the same place doing the same thing.
How did Weber and coworkers arrive at this startling finding? Yeast RNase P consists of nine protein subunits and an RNA component that comes from the RPR1 gene. The first thing Weber and coworkers did was to show that the lethal phenotype of a rpr1 knockout could be rescued by the single-subunit RNase P from either the plant Arabidopsis thaliana or the trypanosome Trypanosoma brucei. The RNase P in these beasts consists of only a single polypeptide.
The authors next integrated the RNase P gene of A. thaliana into the genome of a yeast cell lacking both RPR1 and one of the protein subunits of RNase P, Rpr2p, and put it through a set of rigorous tests. To their surprise, they found that this strain does a perfectly fine job of processing tRNA precursors. There was no buildup of intermediates and, if anything, the A. thaliana RNase P proved to be a bit more efficient at trimming these tRNA precursors.
Of course just because the simpler RNase P can substitute for the RNA subunit of the more complex RNase P, that does not mean the two do the exact same thing. It could be that the more complex form of RNase P has a broader set of functions, but that the only function absolutely required for life is the trimming of tRNA precursors. But this does not appear to be the case.
Previous research showing that unprocessed forms of other RNAs accumulate at the restrictive temperature in an rpr1-ts mutant had suggested that yeast RNase P also processes a number of other RNAs besides tRNAs. Since Weber and coworkers didn’t see these unprocessed forms accumulating in their strain, either the simple A. thaliana RNase P was able to process those other RNAs, or they’re actually not RNase P substrates.
By analyzing the phenotypes of several different RNase P mutants, they showed that the other RNAs aren’t RNase P substrates; apparently their accumulation in the rpr1-ts mutant is an indirect effect. All in all, these results show that the added complexity of yeast RNase P did not arise so that the enzyme could also process these other RNAs.
The authors next set out to see if there was any subtle difference between the two strains. In other words, does replacing the RNA component of yeast RNase P with the catalytic protein subunit from A. thaliana have any effect on the yeast whatsoever?
Weber and coworkers tested this by comparing the growth of the two strains under a wide range of conditions. They saw no significant effects in any of the over 30 conditions tested. If the yeast RNase P has any added features over the A. thaliana one, they are very, very subtle.
Pushing to see if they could find any differences, they even set the two up in direct competition to see which was the best suited for survival. They did this by adding GFP to one or the other strain so that they could follow it, putting the two strains together, and growing them for many generations to see if one routinely outcompeted the other. Neither did…it was a draw. There appears to be no advantage to having the yeast RNase P despite its complexity!
This is weird. It is almost like round trip evolution. RNase P starts out as a single RNA that processes tRNA precursors. Then as it moves around the tree of life, it picks up various bells and whistles and occasionally is even replaced by a protein. And yet in the end, all RNase P’s are strangely equivalent. As if all of that evolving was for naught!
Obviously there are still plenty of unanswered questions. Why did yeast build up this complexity if there is seemingly no advantage? And is the protein subunit superior to the RNA subunit? If so, this last question would at least explain why a few beasts evolved away from the RNA catalytic subunit to the protein one – but still wouldn’t answer why all those proteins are glomming onto the perfectly adequate RNA that probably predates proteins. More studies in yeast may help us “unmask” the answer to this fundamental question.
by D. Barry Starr, Ph.D., Director of Outreach Activities, Stanford Genetics
Categories: Research Spotlight
Tags: evolution, RNase P, Saccharomyces cerevisiae, tRNA processing
August 25, 2014
New Sequence pages are now available in SGD for virtually every yeast gene (e.g., HMRA1 Sequence page), and include genomic sequence annotations for the Reference Strain S288C, as well as several Alternative Reference Genomes from strains such as CEN.PK, RM11-1a, Sigma1278b, and W303 (more Alternative References coming soon). Each page includes an Overview section containing descriptive information, maps depicting genomic context in Reference Strain S288C (as shown below) and Alternative Reference strains, as well as chromosomal and relative coordinates in S288C.

The sequence itself includes display options for genomic DNA, coding DNA, or translated protein.

Also available on each Sequence page are links to redesigned S288C Chromosome pages, links to new Contig pages for Alternative Reference Genomes, and a Downloads menu for easy access to DNA sequences of several other industrial strains and environmental isolates. The new Sequence, Chromosome, and Contig pages make use of many of the features you enjoy on other new or redesigned pages at SGD, including graphical display of data, sortable tables, and responsive visualizations. The Sequence pages also provide seamless access to other tools at SGD such as BLAST and Web Primer. Please explore these new pages, accessible via the Sequence tab on your favorite Locus Summary page, and send us your feedback.
Categories: Data updates, New Data, Sequence, Website changes
August 21, 2014

Like the USPS delivering a letter, yeast Cue5p & human Tollip recognize the ubiquitin “stamp” on cytotoxic proteins and present them to the “addressee” Atg8p. Image from Wikimedia Commons
Say you want to send a letter to your friend on the other side of the country. First off you’ll need to put the right address and postage on the envelope. Then you’ll need the U.S. Postal Service (USPS) to take your letter and deliver it to the right person. The stamp tells the USPS to deliver the letter, and the address indicates where it should be delivered (unimpeded by snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night, of course!).
It turns out something similar happens in human cells with aggregated proteins. Aggregated proteins are “stamped” by attachment of the small protein ubiquitin and “addressed” to the Atg8 protein. Atg8p triggers the aggregated proteins’ incorporation into autophagosomes for eventual degradation in the lysosome.
And just as it can be devastating if your mail doesn’t get to where it needs to go, so too can it be devastating for these aggregates to accumulate instead of being properly delivered. A buildup of these aggregates is a big factor in Alzheimer’s and Huntington’s diseases.
Enter the cellular USPS. Just as is the case for a prepared letter, the human cell has a service that delivers the ubiquinated proteins to the autophagosome, in the form of the protein adaptor p62 (SQSTM1) and its relative, NBR1.
These adaptor proteins can act as a postal service because they recognize both the aggregated proteins’ stamp (ubiquitin) and their addressee (Atg8p). Specifically, they each possess an ubiquitin-conjugate binding domain (UBA) and an Atg8-interacting motif (AIM). The protein p62 in particular has been shown to associate with protein aggregates linked to neurodegenerative diseases like Huntington’s disease.
In a new paper published in Cell, Lu et al. asked whether there is a link between the ubiquitin and autophagy systems in yeast. If so, yeast might provide some clues about diseases like Huntington’s. Proteins stamped with ubiquitin are known to be addressed to the proteasome for degradation in yeast, but no link between ubiquitination and autophagy had previously been seen, even though many central components of autophagy were actually first described in yeast.
Indeed, the authors showed that cells specifically deficient in the autophagy pathway (atg8∆, atg1∆, or atg7∆), accumulated ubiquitin conjugates under autophagy-inducing conditions. This suggests that the ubiquitin and autophagy pathways are connected in yeast, as is the case for humans.
Next, the researchers looked to see if there is an adaptor in yeast analogous to p62 in humans. When they pulled down proteins that bind yeast Atg8p under starvation conditions, they found ubiquitin conjugates and, using mass spectrometry, further identified peptides from a few other proteins – one of which was Cue5p.
Could Cue5p, like p62 in humans, be the postal service that recognizes both stamped ubiquitin conjugates and the addressee Atg8p in yeast? Strikingly, Cue5p had both a CUE domain that binds ubiquitin and an Atg8p-interacting motif (AIM). The authors confirmed in vivo that Cue5p binds ubiquitin conjugates and Atg8p using these domains, particularly under starvation conditions. They also showed that it acts specifically at the stage of ubiquitin-conjugate recognition and on aggregated proteins, without affecting the process of autophagy itself.
Given that Cue5p functions similarly to p62 and p62 is known to associate with protein aggregates involved in neurodegenerative disease, Lu et al. were quick to look for Cue5p substrates. Analyzing ubiquitin-conjugated proteins that accumulated in cue5 mutant cells, they identified 24 different proteins. Although these 24 Cue5p substrates had diverse functions, the common thread was that many had a tendency to aggregate under certain conditions such as high temperature.
Could Cue5p then actually facilitate removal of cytotoxic protein aggregates in neurodegenerative diseases? Indeed, the authors showed that CUE5 helped clear cytotoxic variants of the human huntingtin protein (Htt-96Q) when it was expressed in yeast, and that Htt-96Q is ubiquitinated in yeast.
These experiments started with an observation in human cells that prompted discovery of an analogous system and adaptor protein in yeast. Now the authors turned the tables and used yeast to look for new adaptor proteins in human cells. Using bioinformatics, they identified a human CUE-domain protein, Tollip, which, although different in its domain organization from Cue5p, contains 2 AIM motifs.
To make a long story (and a lot of work!) short, they showed that Tollip binds both human Atg8p and ubiquitin conjugates and clears cytotoxic variants of huntingtin in human cells. Expressed in yeast, it similarly binds ubiquitin conjugates and Atg8p and suppresses the hypersensitivity of cue5∆ cells to the variant huntingtin protein Htt-96Q. So Tollip is a newly defined adaptor protein and functional homolog of Cue5p!
Letter carriers of one sort or another have been around for as long as human civilization has existed, from homing pigeons to FedEx. Now we know that for even longer, cells from yeast to human have been using similar ways to recognize stamped proteins and deliver them to the right address. And once again, yeast has helped us understand the inner secrets of human cells.
by Selina Dwight, Ph.D., Senior Biocurator, SGD
Categories: Research Spotlight, Yeast and Human Disease
Tags: autophagy, cytotoxic proteins, Saccharomyces cerevisiae, ubiquitin-mediated degradation, yeast model for human disease