James P K Armstrong1, Molly M Stevens2. 1. Department of Materials, Department of Bioengineering, and Institute for Biomedical Engineering, Imperial College London, London, SW7 2AZ, UK. Electronic address: james.armstrong@imperial.ac.uk. 2. Department of Materials, Department of Bioengineering, and Institute for Biomedical Engineering, Imperial College London, London, SW7 2AZ, UK. Electronic address: m.stevens@imperial.ac.uk.
Abstract
Great strides have been taken towards the in vitro engineering of clinically relevant tissue constructs using the classic triad of cells, materials, and biochemical factors. In this perspective, we highlight ways in which these elements can be manipulated or stimulated using a fourth component: the application of remote fields. This arena has gained great momentum over the last few years, with a recent surge of interest in using magnetic, optical, and acoustic fields to guide the organization of cells, materials, and biochemical factors. We summarize recent developments and trends in this arena and then lay out a series of challenges that we believe, if met, could enable the widespread adoption of remote fields in mainstream tissue engineering.
Great strides have been taken towards the in vitro engineering of clinically relevant tissue constructs using the classic triad of cells, materials, and biochemical factors. In this perspective, we highlight ways in which these elements can be manipulated or stimulated using a fourth component: the application of remote fields. This arena has gained great momentum over the last few years, with a recent surge of interest in using magnetic, optical, and acoustic fields to guide the organization of cells, materials, and biochemical factors. We summarize recent developments and trends in this arena and then lay out a series of challenges that we believe, if met, could enable the widespread adoption of remote fields in mainstream tissue engineering.
The Current Status of Tissue Engineering: Clinical Solutions but Little
Structure
Tissue engineers today can draw on a host of new scientific and technological
tools, such as cell reprogramming, gene editing, and advanced cell screening [1]. These advances have enabled unprecedented
levels of biological control and characterization, however, it is striking to note
how the core principles of this discipline have remained largely unchanged from the
early tissue engineering experiments carried out by Bell and coworkers in 1979
[2]. In particular, cells, biomaterials,
and biochemical factors are still widely held up as the three pillars of tissue
engineering. If we set aside certain practical flaws, such as nutrient transport
gradients [3], then we can consider most
tissue engineering protocols to be equilibrium systems: cells dispersed homogenously
throughout isotropic materials, with nutrients and biochemical factors supplied in a
global fashion by bulk diffusion from the surrounding culture medium. The absence of
any imposed constraints or directionality means that these strategies generally
yield homogenous tissue constructs that exhibit very little structural
organization.Evidently, this situation is far removed from the vivid complexity of natural
systems. Tissues often exhibit multiscale and hierarchical structure, with
anisotropic, inhomogeneous, and directional arrangement of both cells and
extracellular matrix components. Structural organization is almost always
inextricably linked to physiological function, for instance, the anisotropic packing
of myofibers ensures directional actuation of skeletal muscle [4], the orientation of cardiomyocytes guides the propagation of
contractile waves in myocardial tissue [5],
and the zonal organization of cartilage and bone allows effective load transmission
across the osteochondral interface [6].
Moreover, it is widely appreciated that tissue grafts engineered with mature
vasculature and structural profiles that match the defect site have an improved
chance of successful integration and survival [7,8]. It is clear that the
functional performance of an engineered tissue graft will be negatively impacted by
a failure to address structural complexity. Indeed, it is our view that in
vitro tissue engineering is unlikely to become established as a
mainstream clinical practice without addressing the issue of structural
organization.This point can be illustrated by considering the nature of some of the major
tissue engineering products and procedures that have reached the clinic: skin grafts
(e.g., Epicel®, Apligraf®, Dermagraft®), cartilage implants
(e.g., MACI®), and corneal sheets (e.g., Holoclar®) [1]. The clinical success of these products is
owed to the fact that they can still perform certain functions without possessing
optimal tissue structure. Skin grafts can provide a basic physical barrier for
patients with burns or ulcers, despite lacking natural features, such as sweat
glands. Cellularized implants that fill small articular cartilage defects can
improve joint function and relieve pain, despite these constructs lacking the
intricate organization of cells and extracellular matrix fibers. Meanwhile, corneal
sheets can be used to improve visual acuity in cases of limbal stem cell deficiency,
despite the absence of zonal organization. These examples serve as a marker of the
current status of tissue engineering: products that offer clinical benefits
‘despite’ a lack of structural organization.
Next-Generation Tissue Engineering: Building Structural Complexity
Whether we are looking to improve the clinical utility of existing products
or seeking translational solutions for more structurally demanding targets (e.g.,
liver, neural, cardiac tissue), it is critical that the next generation of tissue
engineers focus on methods that can fully replicate physiological functions by
faithfully recreating native structural complexity. There are a host of fabrication
tools that can be used to spatially arrange cells, materials, and biochemical
factors. For instance, 3D bioprinting is commonly used to create precision
architecture and patterned multicellular structures [9]. Techniques such as aligned electrospinning [10], melt electrospinning writing [11], and unidirectional freeze drying [12] can be used to create anisotropic substrates, while
materials can also be molded [13], layered
into zonal structures [14], or cast with
mechanical, compositional, or morphogen gradients [15]. These fabrication-driven approaches are either used to spatially
organize components prior to tissue culture or as a means of creating material or
biochemical cues that can drive directional or local cell responses during tissue
culture.An alternative strategy that has been investigated for complex tissue
engineering is the use of externally applied forces. For example, electrical or
mechanical stimulation can be used to guide cell alignment or differentiation during
tissue engineering [16]. These examples use
apparatus that directly interface with either the cells, media, or tissue
constructs. In this article, we wish to highlight a related strategy that has
recently come to prominence: the use of remotely applied force fields (see Glossary) (e.g., optical, acoustic, magnetic) that can be used to guide
structural complexity without any tangible contact. While appreciating that these
fields can be used to promote bulk effects (e.g., global cell differentiation), we
have focused on strategies that seek to disrupt the equilibrium balance of cells,
materials, or biochemical factors (Figure 1,
Key Figure). In particular, we highlight recent approaches that use remote fields
to: (i) spatially assemble different tissue engineering components; (ii) initiate
local responses, such as cell differentiation or material degradation; or (iii)
exert directional responses, such as cell or matrix fiber alignment.
Figure 1
Key Figure: Remote Fields in Tissue Engineering: Literature Examples and
Inspiration.
(A) Magnets (shown in gray) offer a relatively simple and accessible method for
manipulating the position of magnetized cells [28], aligning matrix fibers [17], or patterning growth factor gradients [22]. (B) Focused optical fields (shown in red) provide high
spatial resolution that can be used for optogenetic modulation of cells [40], photodegradation of materials [34], or local release of biochemical
factors [35]. (C) Acoustic fields can be
generated by piezotransducers (shown in blue) in order to pattern bulk cell
populations [45], modulate fiber
microstructure [57], or locally release
biochemical factors [59]. Many of these
approaches, along with related technologies, are already used to engineer
complex tissue structures, while others require further development,
optimization, or scale up.
Magnetic Fields
Strong magnetic fields have been widely used to orient matrix fibers
during gelation, for example, Eguchi and coworkers recently used an 8 T field to
fabricate aligned collagen hydrogels that could guide Schwann cell orientation
[17] (Figure 2A). However, the recent trend has seen the introduction of
magnetically susceptible components that allow alignment using much weaker
magnetic fields. For instance, Antman-Passig and coworkers used superparamagnetic nanoparticles to
guide the alignment of collagen fibers in a 26 mT field [18] (Figure 2B). This
aligned system was used for neural cell orientation, while a similar approach
was employed by Betsch and coworkers for the 4D bioprinting of cartilage tissue
[19]. Meanwhile, magnetic surfactant
conjugation has been used to magnetize proteins [20], and superparamagnetic nanoparticles have been used as
field-responsive carriers for RNA and proteins [21-23]. The latter
approach was used by Li and coworkers to create gradients of bone morphogenetic
protein 2 (BMP-2) within cellularized hydrogels, in order to promote localized
osteogenesis and mineralization during osteochondral tissue engineering [22] (Figure
2C).
Figure 2
Magnetic Fields for Manipulating Biomolecules.
Magnetic fields are particularly well suited to the redistribution of nanoscale
entities, such as biomolecule aggregates or magnetically susceptible
nanoparticles. (A) For example, Eguchi and coworkers recently used an 8 T
magnetic field to orient collagen fibers (white arrows) during self-assembly and
gelation. Scale bar = 50 μm. The aligned structures were capable of
guiding Schwann cell orientation and promoting nerve regeneration in both
in vitro and in vivo models. Reproduced,
with permission, from [17]. (B) The
addition of superparamagnetic nanoparticles to the hydrogel precursor can allow
fiber alignment with much weaker fields. For example, a recent report showed
that a 26 mT magnetic field could be used to form hydrogels containing (i)
aligned superparamagnetic nanoparticle strings, and (ii) oriented collagen
fibers (blue). Scale bars = 50 μm. Reprinted, with permission, from M.
Antman-Passig and O. Shefi et al. Nano Letters Copyright 2016
American Chemical Society [18]. (C)
Superparamagnetic nanoparticles can also be used as field-responsive carriers
for biomolecular cargo. (i) For instance, Li and coworkers used a 700 mT
magnetic field to form an agarose hydrogel bearing a gradient of
superparamagnetic nanoparticles (dark brown). Scale bar = 2 mm. By preloading
the nanoparticles with bone morphogenetic protein 2 and co-encapsulating human
mesenchymal stem cells into the agarose hydrogel, the gradient was used to
engineer osteochondral tissue constructs. Immunostaining for osteopontin (red),
counterstained with DAPI (blue) across (ii) the whole construct, (iii) the bone
end, (iv) the middle section, and (v) the cartilage end. Scale bars = 200
μm. Reproduced, with permission, from [22].
An interesting route to cellular manipulation was recently reported by
Tasoglu and coworkers, who used external magnetic fields for the levitational
self-assembly of cell-seeded materials in a paramagnetic suspension [24]. A more common approach is direct cell magnetization, however,
this strategy necessitates the use of cytocompatible protocols that can label
cells with a large quantity of paramagnetic material [25]. Bulk cell magnetization has been used to engineer
vocal folds [26], secretory epithelial
organoids [27], and embryoid bodies
[28], however, superparamagnetic
nanoparticles can also interact with cells in a more refined manner.
Historically, superparamagnetic nanoparticles have been targeted to specific
integrin receptors or ion channels on the cell membrane surface allowing remote
field actuation [29]. More recently,
magnetic fields have been used to manipulate the position of functionalized,
intracellular superparamagnetic nanoparticles in order to modulate processes
such as cytoskeletal assembly, mitochondrial dynamics and gene expression [30-32]. With further development, this method could potentially offer a
remotely activated magnetogenetic switch for complex tissue engineering.
Optical Fields
Tissue engineering components can be manipulated with much higher
precision using optical technologies. Light irradiation can be used to form,
cleave, or rearrange chemical bonds, a characteristic ideally suited to
patterning materials [33]. Historically,
simple photomask-based systems have been used to present an uneven distribution
of light, however, the recent trend has been towards more dynamic 3D patterning
techniques, such as multiphoton
lithography. This method was used by Arakawa and coworkers to
precisely sculpt vascular networks in hydrogels crosslinked with photodegradable
peptides [34] (Figure 3A). A similar method was used by DeForest and
Tirrell, who used two bio-orthogonal photochemistries to immobilize and release
proteins within a synthetic hydrogel (Figure
3B). Applying this approach to vitronectin enabled the reversible and
spatiotemporal differentiation of human mesenchymal stem cells [35]. An alternative method is the use of
localized heating caused by infrared irradiation to trigger temperature-mediated
processes. This strategy was employed by Stowers and coworkers to release
liposomal cargo that could either stiffen or soften alginate hydrogels with
spatiotemporal control [36].
Figure 3
Optical Fields for Manipulating Materials.
Light can be used for the formation or cleavage of bonds, a property that makes
it highly suited to the patterning of material systems. (A) For example, Arakawa
and coworkers used a light-mediated subtractive manufacturing technique based on
molecular photolysis to create complex 3D networks of perfusable microvessels.
The vessels could be perfused with fluorescent microbeads, shown with (i)
z-depth-dependent color coding and (ii) as distinct particles (red). Scale bars
= 100 μm. (iii) The channels were seeded with endothelial cells to form
vascular networks, shown here stained with phalloidin (red) and Hoechst 33342
(blue). Scale bar = 50 μm. Reproduced, with permission, from [34]. (B) DeForest and Tirrell used two
different photochemistries: one wavelength to reversibly anchor proteins to the
surrounding hydrogel and a second wavelength to remove the immobilized protein.
(i) This method was used to sequentially pattern two different proteins (red and
green traces) with high precision and minimal overlap. (ii) Immunostaining for
osteocalcin (green) counterstained with CellTracker (red) showed osteogenesis of
mesenchymal stem cells only in regions of vitronectin patterning (dashed lines),
(iii) which could be reversed by selectively removing protein to leave smaller
regions of vitronectin (dashed squares). Scale bars = 200 μm. Reproduced,
with permission, from [35].
Local heating by infrared light was also used by Martin-Saavedra and
coworkers to spatiotemporally trigger the transgene expression of vascular endothelial growth factor (VEGF)
[37]. This study used a
heat-activated gene switch, however, a more direct method for optically
controlling cells is the use of optogenetic technology. Indeed, optogenetics has enabled the direct
photoactivation of processes such as neurite outgrowth, myogenic
differentiation, and angiogenesis [38,39], while Reis and
coworkers recently reported that optoepigenetic probes could be used for light-controlled gene
expression [40]. While
optogenetic/optoepigenetic tissue engineering requires further development,
these reports offer the enticing prospect of using optical switches to guide
complex tissue formation. Meanwhile, other light-based technologies have been
used to precisely assembly different tissue engineering components. For
instance, optical tweezers can trap
and maneuver individual cells or microtubules into customized arrays [41,42]. Although optical tweezers offer extremely high spatial
precision, it is clear that significant improvements in throughput are required
if this method is to be applied to the engineering of full-size tissue
constructs.
Acoustic Fields
A more high-throughput method for cell manipulation is acoustic patterning. This method
typically uses one or more ultrasound
standing waves to create uneven pressure fields that can pattern
cells en masse into well-defined geometric assemblies [43]. Early work in this field focused on
patterning cells on 2D culture substrates, however, a major development in this
area was the use of hydrogelation to encapsulate the patterned cell arrays
[44]. This method allowed cell arrays
to be preserved for long-term in vitro tissue engineering after
removal of the acoustic field. Since 2016, devices have been developed to
generate lines of myoblasts for skeletal muscle tissue engineering [45] (Figure
4A), assemblies of beating cardiomyocytes for cardiac tissue
engineering [46,47], levitated sheets of neuroprogenitors for neural tissue
engineering [48] (Figure 4B) and arrays of endothelial cells for
neovascularization [49,50] (Figure
4C). These examples use simple geometric arrays to create lines,
columns, or sheets, however, in the future it may be possible to create
customized tissue architecture by employing more flexible holographic assembly
routes [51,52].
Figure 4
Acoustic Fields for Manipulating Cells.
Ultrasound standing waves are particularly well suited for creating geometric
assemblies of microscale entities, which makes them highly applicable to remote
cell patterning. (A) For example, Armstrong and coworkers used this approach to
pattern myoblasts throughout collagen-based hydrogels for the tissue engineering
of aligned skeletal muscle. (i) Low magnification bright field image of a
patterned muscle tissue, scale bar = 500 μm. (ii) Confocal fluorescence
microscopy image of calcein-stained myoblasts (green), scale bar = 200
μm. (iii) Confocal fluorescence microscopy image of myotubes
immunostained for skeletal myosin (red) and counterstained with DAPI (blue),
scale bar = 300 μm. Reproduced, with permission, from [45]. (B) Bouyer and coworkers used acoustic
levitation to form layers of neuroprogenitors in fibrin hydrogels for neural
tissue engineering. Immunostaining for Tuj 1 (green) and nestin (red),
counterstained with DAPI (blue), (i) scale bar = 500 μm, (ii) scale bar =
250 μm, (iii) scale bar = 100 μm. Reproduced, with permission,
from [48]. (C) Kang and coworkers used
two orthogonal standing waves to create 3D arrays of collateral cylindroids
containing both endothelial cells and adipose stem cells. (i) Immunostaining for
vascular endothelial cadherin (green) counterstained with DAPI (blue), scale bar
= 200 μm. (ii) Immunostaining for α smooth muscle actin (red)
counterstained with DAPI (blue), scale bar = 200 μm. (iii) Image of
aligned vessels, perfused with fluorescent dextran (green), 1 week after
subcutaneous transplantation, scale bar = 200 μm. Reproduced, with
permission, from [50].
A limitation to acoustic cell patterning is that the forces generated
are relatively weak [53]. As a result,
acoustic patterning can be readily disrupted by factors such as mechanical
agitation, thermal currents, acoustic streaming, viscosity, and gravity [54]. Moreover, the forces used for
patterning are proportional to the object volume and thus it can be extremely
challenging to pattern nanoscale entities, such as biochemical factors or matrix
fibers. This limitation has led to the development of strategies that use
microscale carriers to host biomolecular cargo or template material fabrication
[55,56]. An alternative approach is the use of focused ultrasound that can provide
highly localized stimuli capable of modulating different tissue engineering
components. The local heating caused by focused ultrasound has been used to
modulate fibril size during collagen gelation [57] and trigger the transgene expression of growth factors (BMP-2
and VEGF) in a spatially controlled manner [58]. Focused ultrasound can also be used to initiate non-thermal
effects, such as the liberation of growth factors from acoustically responsive
droplets or scaffolds [59,60].
Concluding Remarks and Future Perspectives
It is evident that remote field systems have the potential to greatly
advance in vitro tissue engineering. However, the convergence of
magnetic, optical, and acoustic technologies with in vitro tissue
engineering is a relatively new development and, as a result, many studies exist
only in the academic sphere and are far from disrupting the clinical status
quo. Here, we propose three key challenges that must be addressed in
order to realize the benefit of remote fields in translational tissue engineering
(see Outstanding Questions). First, it
is imperative that ‘proof-of-concept’ studies using arbitrary feature
dimensions and model cell types are replaced with methods that enable the
engineering of mature, multicellular tissues with native structural dimensions. For
instance, while ultrasound standing waves have been used to create multilayer sheets
of endothelial cells in collagen hydrogels [44], the next step for this technology is the creation of functional
networks of blood vessels, replete with support cells (e.g., smooth muscle cells),
formed not in a bare hydrogel but in a real tissue structure (e.g., muscle, bone,
liver).The second challenge is to use materials and protocols that support remote
manipulation without affecting other aspects of the engineered tissue. This
statement is made in light of the fact that many remote field technologies
necessitate the use materials with defined properties: certain levels of optical
transparency, viscosity, magnetic susceptibility, photoresponsivity, or acoustic attenuation. As a result, many
strategies rely on either: (i) a customized material, designed and synthesized with
the appropriate set of characteristics; or (ii) the selection of an existing
material system that has compatible properties within an operational parameter
space. While a carefully designed or selected material can evidently be used to
enable remote organization of structural features, this benefit must not be at the
expense of the biological, physical, and mechanical properties required to support
cell survival, differentiation, and extracellular matrix production. Ideally, a
tissue engineering protocol that is recognized as the academic or clinical gold
standard would be used with remote field application as the sole change to the
established procedure.The final challenge is to improve the accessibility of remote field
instrumentation. Apparatus is often assembled in house [45,55], however, the
need for users to assemble and operate their own devices restricts usage to a small
number of groups with specialist expertise. This situation could be alleviated by
more active dissemination of academic knowledge through protocols and methods
papers, or by making devices available through user collaboration or product
commercialization. Alternatively, many remote field technologies use high-end
equipment that is already commercially available, such as multiphoton lithography
[35], optical tweezers [41], or focused ultrasound systems [60]. These systems, which can require
considerable expense and expertise to operate and maintain, tend to be sold as
multifunctional apparatus rather than tailored to particular end-user applications.
Therefore, a major challenge can be tuning and integrating commercial apparatus to
meet biological requirements (cytocompatibility, sterility, etc.).
Overall, the creation of more integrated, accessible technologies would enable
research groups around the world to embrace remote fields as a mainstream tool for
complex tissue engineering.
Authors: S Correia Carreira; J P K Armstrong; A M Seddon; A W Perriman; R Hartley-Davies; W Schwarzacher Journal: Nanoscale Date: 2016-04-14 Impact factor: 7.790
Authors: Francisco M Martin-Saavedra; Virginia Cebrian; Leyre Gomez; Daniel Lopez; Manuel Arruebo; Christopher G Wilson; Renny T Franceschi; Richard Voellmy; Jesus Santamaria; Nuria Vilaboa Journal: Biomaterials Date: 2014-06-21 Impact factor: 12.479
Authors: Mario L Fabiilli; Christopher G Wilson; Frédéric Padilla; Francisco M Martín-Saavedra; J Brian Fowlkes; Renny T Franceschi Journal: Acta Biomater Date: 2013-03-25 Impact factor: 8.947
Authors: Glen R Kirkham; Emily Britchford; Thomas Upton; James Ware; Graham M Gibson; Yannick Devaud; Martin Ehrbar; Miles Padgett; Stephanie Allen; Lee D Buttery; Kevin Shakesheff Journal: Sci Rep Date: 2015-02-26 Impact factor: 4.379
Authors: James P K Armstrong; Jennifer L Puetzer; Andrea Serio; Anne Géraldine Guex; Michaella Kapnisi; Alexandre Breant; Yifan Zong; Valentine Assal; Stacey C Skaalure; Oisín King; Tara Murty; Christoph Meinert; Amanda C Franklin; Philip G Bassindale; Madeleine K Nichols; Cesare M Terracciano; Dietmar W Hutmacher; Bruce W Drinkwater; Travis J Klein; Adam W Perriman; Molly M Stevens Journal: Adv Mater Date: 2018-09-12 Impact factor: 30.849
Authors: Claire Bomkamp; Stacey C Skaalure; Gonçalo F Fernando; Tom Ben-Arye; Elliot W Swartz; Elizabeth A Specht Journal: Adv Sci (Weinh) Date: 2021-11-16 Impact factor: 16.806
Authors: Hyejeong Seong; Stuart G Higgins; Jelle Penders; James P K Armstrong; Spencer W Crowder; Axel C Moore; Julia E Sero; Michele Becce; Molly M Stevens Journal: ACS Nano Date: 2020-04-29 Impact factor: 15.881