Marco and I were in the same grad school cohort, and we were roommates for two years in New York.  During that time, we had lots of conversations about philosophy.  Marco was a great person to talk philosophy with:  he was open-minded and genuinely interested in understanding the views of others.  His questions invariably cut to the heart of the matter, and he never lost sight of the big picture questions that drew most of us to philosophy in the first place. 

Marco’s open-mindedness and curiosity manifested themselves in many other ways.  As many of his friends can attest, he had lots of passions and hobbies – from his love of ice-climbing, rock-climbing, and all things outdoors, to more quirky enthusiasms such as his beer-brewing infatuation.  (For a while Marco had a habit of storing his brews in progress in the fridge, which could lead to some foul-tasting mix-ups.)  He was also happy to support other people in their projects:  when I expressed interest in reading Proust, he formed a reading group with me, which quickly degenerated into eating madeleines and drinking wine when we realized how boring A la Recherche was.  

One of my favorite adventures with Marco was in the summer of 2010, when we embarked on a three-week roadtrip from New Jersey to San Francisco and back.  Needless to say, this involved a lot of driving time.  To while away the hours, we played chess.  But since we needed to have eyes on the road, we were forced to play sans board.  Only at night, once the day’s driving was completed, would we try to reconstruct the games on a physical board; we were invariably surprised at the resulting positions, which looked nothing like what we had envisioned!  Aside from many unfinished chess games, highlights from the trip include hiking up snow-crested summits in Colorado, waking up at the crack of dawn (despite my protests) to watch the sunrise over Bryce Canyon, blasting Rachmaninoff and Biggie while navigating hairpin turns in Wyoming, and an ill-advised attempt at off-roading in Arches National Park. (The resulting holes in the underside of my car, and the ominous noises they produced, led us to briefly fear that we might be stranded on the West Coast for good.)

I will miss Marco’s conversations, his quirky projects, and his spirit of adventure.