Lifestyle
These L.A. musicians investigated a medical mystery. What they discovered launched a new skincare line
The love story of musicians Ann Marie Simpson-Einziger and Mike Einziger was fortified in a lab.
After meeting through a mutual colleague in 2010, the Santa Monica-based couple’s courtship began the following year, as they were collaborating with Oscar-winning composer Hans Zimmer on a series of film scores. Einziger is best known as the founding guitarist of California-based rock band Incubus. His wife is a renowned composer and violinist for artists including Jethro Tull, Ringo Starr, Dave Matthews Band and Stevie Nicks.
The couple had been seeing one another for only about a year when together they stumbled upon a medical mystery. It resulted in a thrilling scientific discovery, the founding of a biotech beauty company called Mother Science — and their own unique happily-ever-after.
“It was an unexpected journey,” said Simpson-Einziger.
“We were simply trying to answer a series of unanswered scientific questions,” her husband added.
It all began in 2012 when Simpson-Einziger developed a fungal infection while traveling abroad. A classically trained violinist by trade, she was performing with composer A.R. Rahman in India when she noticed lightened patches of skin on her back and under her bra line. They resembled “loosely drawn flower blooms, with rounded edges,” she said.
After consulting her dermatologist, Simpson-Einziger was diagnosed with a temporary fungal infection called Tinea versicolor, which can lighten or darken skin pigmentation as a result of humidity.
“It’s an imbalance of the microbiome,” Simpson-Einziger said. “The condition was harmless, it resolves on its own and [I was told] that the lightened patches of skin would all go back to normal. But I got so curious.”
“We learned pretty quickly that there were no real hypotheses about how this was happening.”
— Mike Einziger, co-founder of Mother Science and Incubus guitarist
Armed with an undergraduate degree in biology from the University of Virginia, the former physics and chemistry teacher pored through science journals like Pigment International and Chembiochem to find articles that better explained the science behind her skin condition. She then began to wonder if whatever had caused it could also be used as a skincare aid that reduced dark spots.
She enlisted the help of her then-fiancé, Einziger, who also happened to have a background in science. He had recently completed the two-year Special Student program at Harvard University’s Graduate School of Arts and Sciences, where he studied cosmology and evolutionary biology. He still had access to the university’s considerable research databases, which meant he could help her look up articles on Tinea versicolor. Soon, he joined her obsession.
“There was tons of literature to research, but nothing coming at it from our perspective,” said Einziger. “We learned pretty quickly that there were no real hypotheses about how this was happening.”
Though they still couldn’t prove it, Simpson-Einziger’s theory that her skin condition could be of use in the beauty world kept them both up at night.
“I actually had a nightmare that somebody took her idea,” he said.
It was then, in 2015, that he called Dr. Jonathan Sackier, a family friend and biotech and medical entrepreneur, who co-invented robotic surgery.
“I taught his daughter violin lessons when I was a recent college graduate living in Virginia,” Simpson-Einziger said.
“We went to [him] fully prepared that we were going to get laughed out of the room,” Einziger added.
Sackier remembers the couple’s uncertainty during the phone call. “Ann-Marie was in the background, whispering, ‘He’s going to think we’re idiots,’” he said. “[Mike] asked if I could identify what it was about the fungal infection that was causing depigmentation and having identified it, could I synthesize or somehow isolate the chemical so that we could do something to impact pigmentation disorders.”
A surgeon by specialty, Sackier connected them with his colleague, Timothy Macdonald, a scientist and professor emeritus of chemistry and pharmacology at the University of Virginia.
“I have taken many projects to him over the years,” Sackier said. “I call him ‘Dr. No,’ because he always says, ‘No, that doesn’t make sense. No, that won’t work.’ When I told him this, he went, ‘Holy moly, that’s impressive.’”
Macdonald began advising the couple and helped connect them with a North Carolina-based research organization called PharmaDirections. The drug development company helped design a scientific program to explore various compounds that had caught the Einzigers’ attention while researching.
After countless studies, they discovered that a naturally occurring molecule that had co-evolved with the human microbiome, Malassezin (pronounced mal-uh-say-zin), could be beneficial for sun spots. While the molecule was identified and named in 2001, the Einzigers were the first to recognize that Malassezin could be valuable in the context of skincare.
“Malassezin is made from a yeast,” said New York-based dermatologist Dr. Amy Wechsler. “When someone has the yeast infection on their skin, the skin often bleaches temporarily.”
The couple filed an application to patent the discovery in 2016. (It was officially granted in 2018.) They then worked with a team of scientists including cosmetic chemist Susan Goldsberry and beauty innovation entrepreneur Tim McCraw to develop Malassezin into a topical serum after previously manufacturing it through a separate process called chemical synthesis.
They began testing to see if it could benefit melanocytes, the skin cells that produce melanin, the dark pigment in question. The couple used their personal savings to fund the initial research.
“I justified it as, ‘How much would I pay for an education where experts in the field teach me how to characterize a molecule and then commercialize it?’” Simpson-Einziger said. “That one-on-one education was worth what we put into investigating this molecule.”
They brought on beauty industry veteran Edna Coryell, McCraw’s daughter, as co-founder and CEO of Mother Science in August 2017 to oversee further research and development, which involved in vitro studies, 3D cell cultures, ex vivo skin testing and genetic analysis. Coryell had never brought a new ingredient to the market until Malassezin.
“It is very rare,” said Coryell. “Truly, as we were going through [the process], it was writing the playbook for this.’”
The Einzigers also collaborated with Dr. Pearl Grimes, director of the Vitiligo & Pigmentation Institute of Southern California, who specializes in vitiligo and pigmentation disorders.
“This is somebody who’s been looking at Tinea versicolor for decades,” Einziger said. “Her first reaction was, ‘How did you guys figure this out?’”
“I was 100% fascinated,” Grimes said of reviewing their initial in vitro studies. “The science [and] the concept was disruptive.”
Grimes assembled a clinical program, which led to proof-of-concept data that’s since been published in peer-reviewed journals including the American Academy of Dermatology and Journal of Drugs in Dermatology.
She went so far as to take a skin biopsy from her own elbow for lab testing. Using VISIA skin analysis technology, she found that the serum helped fade hyperpigmentation on the sample.
“That’s when I really knew that it worked,” Grimes said. “I used it in a stubborn area, and I could clearly see via photographic documentation that it was responding.”
“Having holes punched in my face was an ultimate act of belief in what we’ve made.”
— Ann Marie Simpson-Einziger, co-founder of Mother Science and violinist
Einziger also biopsied a patch on his arm for Grimes to analyze. “We felt responsible,” he said. “Mine was done before we even did the human clinical study.”
Simpson-Einziger joked that she too “put real skin in the game” after she said she had her face punch-biopsied — a procedure in which an instrument is used to remove a deeper skin sample — three times.
“Having holes punched in my face was an ultimate act of belief in what we’ve made,” Simpson-Einziger said.
Once the Einzigers confirmed that the data supported their initial hypothesis in a human clinical study, they moved forward with a business plan for what eventually became Mother Science. (It joins the couple’s two other co-founded businesses, including Mixhalo, a networking technology company for live events.)
Mother Science — named as a nod to French physicist and chemist Marie Curie — was born as a result of raising an initial round of approximately $3.2 million in seed funding from a small group of venture capitalists and angel investors, including Hawktail’s Michael Polansky and Drew Houston, the co-founder of Dropbox. After more than six years of research, Malassezin became the DNA of Mother Science, which officially launched in 2023 with its first product, Molecular Hero Serum ($89). The product is meant to reduce hyperpigmentation and brighten skin.
“It’s a powerful antioxidant,” Simpson-Einziger said. “When we started testing, we learned that Malassezin happens to offer superior protection against hydroxyl and peroxyl free radicals, which are [some of] the most damaging. We had this molecule that was going to do something marvelous in protecting the skin.”
A second product, Retinol Synergist ($96), was released earlier this year. And Molecular Genesis Barrier Repair Moisturizer ($68), featuring Malassezin, will be released on Jan. 7.
“Malassezin is really versatile, as it’s able to target hyperpigmentation, improve the skin’s moisture barrier and provide potent antioxidant protection without any irritation,” said Connecticut-based dermatologist Dr. Mona Gohara, who is also an associate clinical professor at Yale University. “The beauty of it is it’s gentle but also highly efficacious.”
In 2016, the same year the Einzigers filed a patent for their scientific discovery, the couple married. They are now parents to four children including a nearly one-year-old son. Because their courtship intersected with their scientific passion project, they consider Mother Science their fifth child.
“We had a lot of people who said, ‘You don’t want to do this. This is too hard. It’s going to take years.’” Simpson-Einziger said, pausing. “I remember thinking, ‘Years don’t scare me. I have a baby. I’m going to have to take care of a human for 18 years.’ There are no guarantees when you have a child how they’re going to turn out, but you do it out of love, out of passion, and it makes your life richer.”
While the couple continues to grow Mother Science’s product lineup, Simpson-Einziger is most proud of their process of discovery itself.
“We’re excited about contributing to science, and having that legacy as part of our brand,” she said.
She hopes Malassezin will one day be as universally known as Vitamin C and hyaluronic acid.
“I want people talking about Malassezin, not even about our brand, just about Malassezin,” she said.
In other words, she and her husband hope the ingredients of their products will be front and center — not themselves.
“Nobody is excited about coming to me for their skincare needs,” Einziger, who still regularly sells out stadiums with Incubus, said with a laugh. “I’m just a person who plays music who happens to be curious about the skin microbiome.”
Lifestyle
Nick Frost wants you to laugh and squirm in “Get Away”
In the new horror-comedy Get Away, the Smiths seem like your average British family, if maybe a bit… morbid? We meet them as they’re driving to a ferry where they’ll embark on a holiday to the fictional Swedish island of Svalta, but not everyone is happy to see them.
“In fact, they’re not welcome at all,” Nick Frost, the film’s writer, tells NPR.
He also plays the patriarch, Mr. Smith. “They shouldn’t be there. It should only be for the Swedes and they just don’t listen,” he says.
See, as polite as they may seem at the outset, the Smiths just don’t care whether they’re welcome or not. They’re here, and the locals are just going to have to deal with it.
“This is Europe, yeah?” Actor Maisie Ayres, who plays Jessie Smith, tells an ornery restaurant owner at the start of the film.
As Frost tells it, it’s pretty typical for British tourists – or American ones, for that matter – to act so entitled. “There is a community of Swedish nutcases who do not like foreigners. You are not on the island and the Smith family ignore every bit of advice to not go, and straight away they essentially walk right into a very angry group of natives,” Frost said.
YouTube
On combining horror and comedy
I love horror and I love comedy and I don’t see why we can’t be all of those things at the same time, you know? But I think traditionally in films we’ve done, the horror has to be frightening and horrific and the comedy should be funny. It should stand up as a comedy. And then, by the way, here at the end there’s a kind of slash-fest.
Folk horror and its influence on Get Away
This comes from me spending 20 years on and off going to this tiny Swedish island. My ex-wife’s family, they’re Swedish, and they have a beautiful house on this tiny island. There’s only 40 houses, there’s no roads, there’s no cars … and I was always amazed at how much culture they had, you know, the Scandinavians in particular. Coming from Britain, and London: yeah, we do have culture, but it’s not like they have there. Ours has been dumbed down slightly. I just love the fact that my children got to grow up around a society that had that kind of culture.
They celebrate things. They dress up as dogs some days. They stay up all night drinking vodka on other [days]. You know what I mean? Every community has its little cultural quirks and I just found that fascinating. [But] even in 20 years I never really felt like they accepted me. Being British, there’s this kind of desperation to be accepted, [like] ‘please like me.’
Entitlement of British tourists
I think that generally is the dynamic of English people. We’re still surprised when people don’t speak English. We’re flabbergasted that no one would take into consideration our needs. We are that really. I think historically on [Svalta] we suggest that four British sailors were killed 250 years ago and then our British family invade the island 250 years later.
What a horror comedy can teach an audience
There’s a Belgian Dutch film called The Vanishing and then there’s also a [Belgian] mockumentary called Man Bites Dog where a film crew follows a serial killer around to get a glimpse into his life. Both of those films – the central antagonist is a serial killer. They are homicidal maniacs. They’re not nice people. They’re awful people. But what those filmmakers did really well was, you know, they’re rubbish at their jobs … you know you get to a point where you empathize with them because they appear human and I really like that.
I got a chance with this to kind of do the same thing where you shouldn’t like the Smith family in the end – I don’t want to give spoilers away – but you shouldn’t “kind of” like the Smith family. But as an audience member, if you can walk out of the cinema, of the theater, and say ‘they were kind of nice, they were cute and funny,’ it leaves people a bit torn when they come out, which is great.
On the 20th anniversary of Shaun of the Dead
It feels great. I think I tried to keep a vibe of that in Get Away, too, in terms of I haven’t made it to make a specific type of audience laugh. I’ve made it to make [actor and co-writer] Simon Pegg laugh and I’ve made it to make [co-writer and director] Edgar Wright laugh. So that’s my audience: Simon and Edgar and I think I took that away from Shaun of the Dead. I’ve been working now as an actor fairly successfully for 20 years now, and I think I’m very thankful for that kind of longevity.
Worst tourists: American or British?I don’t want to upset anyone here, but I think Americans in America, they just fit. It works. But if you take Americans anywhere else, it just doesn’t really work. It’s not a good … culturally it’s not a good fit. But British people in Britain are sometimes really annoying.
Get Away is in select theaters now.
Lifestyle
Physical Fight Breaks Out at Mariah Carey's Baltimore's Concert
TMZ.com
Mariah Carey‘s night of celebrating the holiday spirit took an unexpected turn at her concert in Baltimore when some of her fans got into another physical brawl.
TMZ has obtained video of nasty physical altercation that broke out during Mimi’s concert at CFG Bank Arena in Baltimore on Saturday. Witnesses who were nearby tell us the brawl involved 4-5 people and escalated quickly after a drink was thrown.
The video shows absolute commotion in the crowd as punches were exchanged and one person was even put in a headlock. We’re told the brawl broke out while Mariah’s chorus was onstage, performing ahead of her return for the final song of the night.
Witnesses tell us security officers intervened to separate the people involved and escorted them out of the venue. It’s unclear what triggered the altercation.
Baltimore Police tell TMZ … they didn’t receive any reports of an assault at the venue yesterday. It appears the venue’s private security handled the incident. Mimi returned to finish the show despite the incident.
As previously reported … another brawl recently occurred at MC’s St. Louis show. It began when one woman pushed another from behind, prompting the other to throw her drink in response. The conflict escalated when a male companion joined in, yelling and lunging at the curly-haired woman.
Happy Holidays!!
Lifestyle
John Lithgow on having a “good ending” — on and off screen
A note from Wild Card host Rachel Martin: Who is your John Lithgow? We had a staff meeting recently where we all went around and named the character who made us love John Lithgow and the choices were as varied as his career.
Mine is Reverend Shaw Moore, the pastor from the movie Footloose, who banned dancing in his small Texas town and, in doing so, gave Kevin Bacon one of the best “I’m-so-mad-I-need-to-do-gymnastics!” scenes of all time.
Our producer said her John Lithgow is from the 1983 Twilight Zone movie. Our editor said his Lithgow has to be Dick Solomon, the patriarch of the alien family in the massively popular TV show 3rd Rock from the Sun.
John Lithgow seems to have done all the things: theatre, movies, TV. Good guys, bad guys… lots of bad guys. Or just maybe complicated characters, including Winston Churchill in The Crown and a very small king in Shrek. This is an actor who is willing to take a risk, play against type, and elevate the profound and the ridiculous.
And it must be said the man loves to work. Just in the last few years, he’s been in the Hulu series, The Old Man, a play about the writer Roald Dahl, the movie Conclave that came out earlier this year, as well as the new animated film Spellbound.
This Wild Card interview has been edited for length and clarity. Host Rachel Martin asks guests randomly-selected questions from a deck of cards. Tap play above to listen to the full podcast, or read an excerpt below.
Question 1: What was a moment in your life when you could have chosen a different path?
John Lithgow: Oh, my entire childhood I had chosen a different path. I grew up in a theater family but did not want to be an actor. I didn’t even consider it because right up until I was about 17 years old, I fully intended to be a painter. I was quite committed to it [for] as long as I can remember. You know, if I were ever asked any version of what you want to be when you grow up — it was always an artist. And I had great encouragement from my parents.
Rachel Martin: So, they were not steering you in the direction of the theater?
Lithgow: Not at all. They weren’t discouraging me. Although I do remember when I told my dad that I was auditioning for a Fulbright to study acting in earnest in London, his face fell, like, “Oh, my God, no.” And I said, “Dad, you’ve produced all these Shakespeare festivals, you’ve even hired me to act. What did you expect me to want to do?” And he said, “Well, I always thought that it would be a good idea for you to go to business school.” And I said “What?”
Martin: Oh, interesting. So it’s not like he held up your artistic dreams. He wasn’t like, “Oh, I really thought you were going to be a painter…”
Lithgow: Yeah. And I said, “What are you thinking? I would never go to business school.” He said, “Well, as a theater manager, I’ve always felt that my great failing was in the area of business.”
Martin: I mean, we all as parents do that to some degree, I imagine, even though I try not to, my kids are sort of young, but, you know, project your own, “I’ve learned the hard way. You know, the theater is tough!” So, you know, he struggled in the trenches and maybe he wanted something different for you.
Lithgow: He struggled terribly. It was a very tough life for him. And I think he just felt the need to spare me.
Martin: Right. And I bet your dad was proud of you in the end.
Lithgow: Oh, ultimately, yes, of course. It’s worked out just fine.
Question 2: What period of your life do you often daydream about?
Lithgow: I think it’s my early years in New York theater – the 1970s. I would say in any given year, in the 1970s in New York, I probably was acting on stage or on Broadway on about 300 of the 365 nights. I mean, I just went from one theater job to another.
Martin: It sounds exhausting…
Lithgow: Oh it was just – I was young! I got everywhere on a bicycle. I acted. God, I did a show in 1975 at Lincoln Center, Trelawny of the “Wells.” Among the cast were Mary Beth Hurt, Sasha von Scherler, and Mandy Patinkin in his first role – and, in her first job out of Yale Drama School, Meryl Streep. We were all thick as thieves and we would have big potluck suppers together.
Martin: That’s worthy of daydreaming, yeah. Things felt limitless for you then?
Lithgow: Yeah. Even though it was really tough and the town was dirty and dangerous and depressing in every way — except if you were a young actor, it was just electric.
Martin: Does that in any way mean that theater is still where you feel most at home?
Lithgow: In a sense. I mean I like everything I do as long as I’m employed. But the theater is where you feel like you’re using absolutely everything you’ve got and you’re in charge of the story.
Question 3: Do you think there’s more to reality than we can see or touch?
Lithgow: I have a pretty simple version of reality. You’re immediately making me look around me like what’s real and what isn’t. And everything I see is real.
I think of death as death. I don’t think there’s life after death or a soul after death. I had an extraordinary death experience, two years ago. I directed that wonderful New Yorker, Doug McGrath, in his one-man show that he had written for himself. He had a wonderful little off-Broadway success with it and it was in his third week of a run. He was going to do it as long as he wanted in a tiny theater downtown. And he didn’t show up at the theater one night because in his office, by himself, at about four in the afternoon, he’d lain down, had a heart attack, and died — at age 64.
And it was such a traumatic thing to experience. He died painlessly and almost courteously. He didn’t make anybody else suffer over his death except over the fact that it had happened like that [snaps].
Martin: And did that change anything for you and how you think of it? The end-ness of it all?
Lithgow: I was startled at how soon I was able to absorb it as just having happened and the new reality. This lovely man who was quite a dear friend, having worked together so closely, he was simply gone. And I knew that he was gone. And the brain simply adjusts.
Martin: Did it make you any more or less comfortable with your own demise?
Lithgow: More. I just know it’s coming. And I think the best thing is to have a gracious ending. You know, I calculate my exit from any film or television or stage play, and I always want to have a good ending. Well, I want to have a good ending to my life too. That no one grieves over.
Martin: Well, people will grieve.
Lithgow: I can’t believe I’m talking about these things. I’ve had three cancers in my life. First in 1988, 2004, and then only a couple of years ago — in every case dealt with immediately and put an end to, you know. Melanomas that could be detected early and removed. A prostatectomy that eliminated prostate cancer from my life. But I’m almost glad that I had the shocking experience of being told, “You have a malignancy.” To have realistically contemplated, “Oh my God – this might really, I might die of this.” I think it was a useful experience to have in terms of just putting your whole life into perspective.
-
Technology1 week ago
US agriculture industry tests artificial intelligence: 'A lot of potential'
-
Technology1 week ago
Elon Musk targets OpenAI’s for-profit transition in a new filing
-
Sports1 week ago
One Black Friday 2024 free-agent deal for every MLB team
-
News6 days ago
Rassemblement National’s Jordan Bardella threatens to bring down French government
-
Technology1 week ago
9 ways scammers can use your phone number to try to trick you
-
World1 week ago
Georgian PM praises country's protest crackdown despite US condemnation
-
World5 days ago
Freedom is permanent for Missourian described as the longest-held wrongly incarcerated woman in US
-
Technology1 day ago
Struggling to hear TV dialogue? Try these simple fixes