maraoz.comIn Memory of Mat Travizano
“No sabía, o lo había olvidado, que la muerte, siempre esperada, es siempre inesperada.”
— Octavio Paz
Note to friends: perdón por escribir en inglés, es lo que salió.
I.
Yesterday, I woke up in Tokyo with news that Mat Travizano, my friend and mentor, had died while I was sleeping. He fell while hiking a mountain in California, something he loved doing.
Mat was a huge influence in my life, and a very special human being. I’m devastated with the loss, and the only way I know to somewhat deal with it is to write. To write about Mat, our friendship, our stories, his amazing life, and his legacy.
II.
Mat was a weird guy. One of the weirdest I know. Which, in my book, is among the highest compliments one can give. He was authentic, an independent thinker, and astonishingly smart. He was also extremely warm, a great family man, and funny as hell. He was fit, loved nature, and had huge courage.
In summary, he was a sensible and brave nerd.
I still remember the night I met him back in 2015. Demi, Esteban and I were fundraising for what is now OpenZeppelin. After an intro (gracias EK!), Mat suggested meeting for beers, 7pm at The Royal Cuckoo. First sign that he was not your usual investor.
I think he arrived 40 minutes late, and then ordered esoteric cocktails for everyone. We spoke for hours about tech, the future, and ideas. I remember understanding less than half of what Mat said. I got the words, mind you, but I couldn’t make sense of their meaning. He was running fast and I just couldn’t follow…. I knew right then that I had met a superior mind.
Amazingly, he chose to invest in us—one of the earliest. I now regret I’ll never get to ask him what his reasoning was, although my guess is the decision was not rational. That kickstarted an unofficial advisor relationship that lasted years.
Mat was a mentor in my professional life, and some of my successes I credit fully to him. His strategic brilliance helped us conquer challenges that were too big for us. He was one of the best connected Argentines in the global tech industry: he knew everyone and everyone liked him.
Over the next 10 years, he went from “the person I least understand when he’s talking” to “one of the few people who understands what I’m saying”. I’m very glad I did tell him this much back in 2022. People: tell your loved ones what you think about them and what makes them special to you. Life is fucking fragile.
III.
What I didn’t see at first, but I came to value even more than his outstanding intellect, is his huge heart. Mat redefined to me how much an investor can do for founders. How much a person can do for his friends, even.
In our early days, he let us work from his office in Palo Alto. Moreover, as 3 foreigners in the Bay Area, with no credit score and not even a permanent residency, we struggled to rent an apartment for weeks. The mfer also lent us his apartment for ~2 months. All while giving us advice on how to spend as much time possible in the US without triggering problems with border officials. Mat just helped the shit out of everyone, without caring about looking good.
(By the way, he was evicted because of us: apparently some grumpy neighbour reported him for “doing airbnb”—which he wasn’t—after seeing us enter his apartment. To this day I can’t believe he never got angry with us about it—or he never showed it.)
Knowing Mat has inspired me to be way more generous, and many friends who call me generous don’t know I’m mostly just stealing Mat’s ideas.
Mat was generous with his resources, with his advice, his connections, and with forgiveness. Watching Friends as a teenager, I remember wishing my fights and arguments with friends could be solved as easily as in the TV show. They just offered a sheepish smile, hugged it out, and moved on. Well, Mat was actually this kind of friend. I can count in our relationship 3 distinct “strikes”, blunders on my part (one of which is the eviction I mentioned above), which he forgave and forgot with barely more than a shrug.
One handsome nerd
I’ll never forget his usual greeting: “How’s the gang?”. In Spanish: “Cómo anda la pandilla?”. For some reason, that made me feel special—as if I was a part of some secret club of amazing people. Which, in retrospect, I guess was true: I was lucky to be counted among Mat’s friends.
Another phrase I’ll never forget, because I stole it, is “Avancemos”. Roughly translates to: “Let’s move forward”. He never said “That’s OK”, or “I like it”, which leaves room for ambiguity. “Avancemos” is a slight nod towards “no more discussion, let’s move to action, please”. His “avancemos” is an effective way to show alignment and commitment while also moving on. Mat was a great leader.
IV.
Above all, though, I knew his warmth through his friendship. Mat was a fantastic host, and loved organising hangouts, parties, dinners, and trips. Every year, I expected his visit to Uruguay, where I live and he liked to spend a month close to the end of the year. He knew how to enjoy life, and how to make others loosen up and enjoy too. He had the gift, rare among nerds, of being an entertainer. He would make the right joke, at the right time and with the right amount of truth in it, to make you socially confident. He made us all feel part of the “gang”. His absence will remain with us for a long time when we gather…
He was also a great listener and mediator. I called him many times to rant about something, and after a long time of listening, he would say “Ah, you’ve got it! Just move on!” with a tone that meant “don’t take everything so seriously…” He also mediated difficult conversations I’ve had in my professional and personal life.
He read a lot and recommended great books. He knew about music and shared it with passion. Every time I visited a new city, he had some great restaurant I had to try. He loved nature and walked countless paths. Mat was high on life and wanted you to experience it all.
I’ve had deaths in the family, but this is the first time I lose a close friend. What a weird new experience… It hurts with a very special color. Friends are our chosen family, and I think Mat was the closest I had to a big brother (In my blood family, I’m the eldest). He taught, teased, entertained, and cared for me in ways no one else had. I still can’t believe he won’t be able to read this, and that I never found the way to tell him many of these things.
He was a true family-man role model for me, both as a dad and husband. He held parenthood and marriage with a lightness I’ll always aspire to. In his own words: “Being a dad is not as hard as they tell you, if you have the resources and are smart about it. And it’s great fun. You should have kids”.
I’m a horrible photographer, but I’m proud of this pic I took of Mat (only 6 months ago!) napping with his kid on a lazy Sunday:
V.
I’m in Tokyo now, traveling with my wife and siblings. I took the day off, to be alone, to remember, and to write, and I’m crying like a toad in a corner of my favourite café in the city. I’m very grateful to be surrounded by respectful Japanese who don’t even look at me and just let me inhabit the sadness.
I’d love to say I feel grateful for having met Mat, for learning from him, and for sharing so many great memories, but I still don’t… Today, I just feel sad about all the things we’ll miss.
Our 10-year friendship gave me so much it already feels like a lifetime, and I was fully expecting to have many more decades together.
I was expecting to get parenting advice from him.
I was expecting to tell him about the new company I’m dreaming—I think he would have loved it.
I was expecting to spend many more New Year’s Eves together.
I was expecting to share more hiking trips together.
I was expecting to ramble about the future of technology.
I was expecting to one day give back to Mat a fraction of what he gave me.
But now I can’t.
Goodbye Mat. You will be missed.
The world lost a truly remarkable and unique individual.
Friends and family lost a giant on whose shoulders we got too used to standing.
And I lost a big brother.
I hope to carry your spirit forward by practicing the generosity, curiosity and joy that you taught me.