Meet the Editorial Team. An interview with Angelo Iulianella, Assistant Editor, Dalhousie University Faculty of Medicine, Canada

Abstract

I had quite an unusual journey into science. I was born and raised in Montreal and went to a public school that didn't particularly emphasize science, but for reasons I can't fully explain, I was always drawn to it. Growing up in a part of the suburbs that was still being developed, I spent a lot of time exploring the wooded areas around our house. I think that early curiosity about the natural world sparked my interest in biology.

By my final year of high school, I knew I wanted to study biology, so I went on to McGill University and specialized in molecular genetics. I completed an undergraduate research project testing the idea of selfish DNA as a mechanism for evolutionary innovation. This reinforced my interest in research as career, which led me straight into graduate studies. I stayed in Montreal for my PhD, working at the Clinical Research Institute of Montreal (IRCM) with Doctor David Lohnes, who had trained with Pierre Chambon, the founder of the Institute for Genetics and Cellular and Molecular Biology (INSERM) in Strasbourg, France. David did his postdoctoral research at INSERM during the exciting early days of knockout mouse technology. He had been part of the team that generated some of the first knockout mouse models, including those for the Retinoic Acid Receptors (RARs).

I joined David Lohnes' lab at IRCM after approaching several professors for potential graduate positions, and David happened to be taking on students at the time. My PhD work focused on the role of RARs during development. We engineered chimeric RARs in mice, which was innovative at the time, and I learned techniques such as blastocyst injection and embryonic stem cell culture—initially by studying the standard “mouse Bible” of techniques (Manipulating the Mouse Embryo, CSHL Press) and with careful guidance from David. My work explored craniofacial, skeletal, and cardiac development. One of my key findings as a graduate student was identifying a molecular regulatory network involving Wnt3A, Brachyury (T), and CDX genes as downstream targets of Retinoic Acid signaling in axial elongation. That work became one of my most significant publications (in Developmental Biology), which continues to be cited, especially now with renewed interest driven by human gastruloid models of embryo segmentation.

After completing my PhD in 2002, I wasn't entirely sure which direction to take next. I interviewed at several places, one of which was a new research institute being established by Robb Krumlauf. I had always been interested in neural patterning, and Robb was a leader in the field, especially in hindbrain and Hox gene research. I was initially excited about the idea of going to the renowned Mill Hill labs in London, where Robb's lab was situated, but he informed me he was moving to Kansas City to head the newly created Stowers Institute for Medical Research. He invited me to visit, and although the labs were still under construction—hard hats required—I could see the potential immediately. I accepted a position without hesitation.

Before I joined, Robb encouraged me to meet one of his former postdocs, Paul Trainor, the now Editor-in-Chief of Developmental Dynamics, who was among the first principal investigators hired at Stowers. I already knew of Paul's work because of his impressive combination of molecular genetics and fine embryological techniques in the mouse—skills shared by only a handful of researchers. We connected right away, and I joined his lab in mid-2002.

While Paul's main focus was craniofacial development and, at the time, emerging work on ribosomopathies, he encouraged my interest in neurogenesis and neural patterning. I pursued projects examining the roles of Cux genes in neurogenesis, and along with Lisa Sandell in the lab, we initiated an ENU mutagenesis screen that uncovered novel mutants, including one affecting the Sonic Hedgehog receptor Patched1, which was an interesting side project in the lab. Working with Paul at Stowers Institute has been a highlight of my career, and I continue to rely on his advice from time to time. The projects I started during my postdoctoral studies formed the basis of my independent research program when I established my own lab at Dalhousie University in Halifax, Canada. We've since moved beyond those initial discoveries to develop a broad ranging research program centered on identifying underlying mechanisms guiding the formation of complex neuronal anatomies.

My long-standing research interest, going back to my postdoctoral days, is how neural stem cells decide which cell types to become, how they migrate, and how their movements contribute to the complex architecture of the nervous system. That question continues to drive much of my current work.

Recently, we've been studying a novel protein called MLLT11. It's particularly interesting because it appears to be unique to vertebrates, with no clear counterparts in other phyla. We've published several papers on its role in neuronal migration, and our evidence suggests that it functions as a new type of cytoskeletal-interacting protein. There are also links between MLLT11 and cancer biology. For example, in certain cancer cell lines, it may interact with the Wnt pathway effectors, potentially through association with TCF7.

We're now trying to understand how these diverse observations fit together: how MLLT11 regulates neuronal migration, why it interacts so strongly with cytoskeletal components, and how its role in the developing nervous system might relate to its function in cancer.

More broadly, we're examining how MLLT11 influences the cytoarchitecture of the nervous system, particularly in the cortex, cerebellum, and retina.

I think there are still many fascinating questions to explore. My own training was very focused on individual genes, and because we're a small lab, we still tend to study specific proteins in depth. But the field as a whole has clearly shifted towards more systems-level approaches. Advances in transcriptomics, for example, have changed how we think about problems—moving from single-gene analysis to understanding broad cellular changes within particular disease states.

Organoids are another area that will continue to grow. Their ability to model human diseases in a dish is extraordinary, and I think we're still only at the beginning of what's possible. As techniques improve, we'll become increasingly efficient at directing cells to form specific tissues by manipulating pathways rather than focusing on single genes. The long-term goal of reliably generating highly accurate “organs in a dish” feels genuinely within reach.

Developmental biology remains an incredibly rich field. You only need to look at the latest issues of top journals to see how inspiring the work is. It's interesting to reflect on how the field has evolved. The molecular genetics revolution revealed a deep unity in body plans and developmental pathways, and my scientific generation sits somewhat in the middle of these truly revolutionary findings.

Now we're moving towards an integrated view that combines genetic, mechanical forces, and tissue-level perspectives on development. Some of the “old-fashioned” concepts—induction, tissue interactions, and mechanical forces—are being revisited, but through the lens of modern molecular gene regulatory network understanding. We are now also revealing how molecular pathways resulting in changes in mechanical forces influence cell movement and interactions shaping tissues.

In a way, the field has come full circle: we're returning to the roots of experimental embryology, but with far more sophisticated tools. And we're beginning to import these principles into organoid systems to improve our ability to design tissues in vitro. That, I think, is where the field is heading.

It's a reminder that developmental biology is far from a finished science—there's still a great deal to discover.

I think the first piece of advice I would give is to keep your horizons broad. It's difficult when you start as a graduate student, because you immediately narrow your focus to a very small part of a problem. But if I were advising my younger self, I'd say: always keep the bigger picture in mind. Look for connections to other developmental processes early on. As my career progressed, I naturally began to do this more—seeing how even a single gene fits into the wider context of whole-brain development. I wish I had adopted that mindset sooner.

Another piece of advice would be about networking and collaboration. Some people are naturally good at building connections, and others—like me—are a bit more introverted, even if it doesn't always appear that way. I'd tell myself to be a bit more outgoing, to network more actively, and to pursue collaborations earlier. Those relationships can really enrich your science and open unexpected doors.

If I do have any spare time, I usually spend it with my kids. In the winter we tend to go skiing, and in the summer we like camping or simply enjoying the outdoors as much as possible. I appreciate simple things—walking, cycling, being out in nature. It may sound a bit pedestrian, but I've always liked the quiet introspection that comes with walking in the woods.

When my kids were younger, they happily came along on long walks. Now that one of them is a teenager, it's a bit harder to convince them to join me, but we still try. In the summer, we also enjoy beachcombing. Living in Nova Scotia, we're lucky to have so many beautiful beaches—cold water, yes, but wonderful all the same.

Beyond that, I don't have extravagant hobbies. I play the guitar, and I take a lot of pleasure in fairly simple, everyday activities. They suit me well.