On a late afternoon in March, the musicians behind Gulf Coast Jazz Collective sit backstage at the Music & Arts Community Center.
Drummer and bandleader Paul Gavin sits with an easy forward lean. Southwest Florida is his home ground, where his earliest bandstands were schools and civic halls, and where, in 2021, Gulf Coast Symphony invited him to lead their jazz collective. While a small, scattered scene existed prior, the band, under Paul’s guidance, formalized a dedicated, professional Jazz at the MACC series that became a major local hub for the genre.
At Paul’s side, Emmy-nominated bass player Brandon Robertson folds his hands and listens more than he speaks. Brandon’s days span his roles as instructor and director of jazz studies at Florida Gulf Coast University, as director of Naples Philharmonic Youth Jazz Orchestra and as a shaping force behind the February- launched Rhythm & Blooms concert series at Naples Botanical Garden. His students sit scattered across the MACC tonight.
Gulf Coast Jazz Collective’s pianist, Zachary Bartholomew, will take to the keys soon, but backstage, he is just Zach, smiling the small, private smile of someone already mapping counter‑melodies in his head. Also serving as the resident musical artist at Arts Bonita, Zach’s latticework calendar of projects and premieres has made him a favorite among locals, like Naples architect and Community Advisory Board member David Corban. In 2023, the pianist transformed the residency from a few-times-a-year program to a monthly, themed jazz series with all-star musicians.
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Photography by Christina Bankson
gulf coast jazz collective hits the right notes trio
Gulf Coast Jazz Collective unites powerful voices: band leader and drummer Paul Gavin (next photo), Arts Bonita resident pianist Zach Bartholomew (pictured here, right), and bassist and Florida Gulf Coast University professor Brandon Robertson.
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Photography by Christina Bankson
gulf coast jazz collective hits the right notes paul gavin
Gulf Coast Jazz Collective has been building something for years: one band with three entry points into the widening arc of local jazz.
Zach and Brandon met at Florida State University in 2004, sparking years of collaboration: restaurant gigs, a cruise-ship contract and an early record. When Brandon moved to Fort Myers, late trumpeter Dan Miller introduced him to Paul. By 2021, Zach, Brandon and Paul were moving through the same circuit. Their first gig together made it plain: Whatever they did next would be larger than a one-off job.
BR: There was a last‑minute concert where we were all thrown together—no rehearsal, barely a set list. Usually, that means you go into self‑preservation mode. You keep it simple, you don’t stick your head out. But that night, everybody was taking chances, and nobody got left behind.ZB: You know when you sit down with people you don’t really know, and the first tune starts, and nobody is playing over each other, nobody is rushing? That’s what it felt like.
Individual efforts give way to collective success. A tune Zach composes and debuts in Bonita Springs migrates into Gulf Coast Jazz Collective’s book, taking on a new shape in Fort Myers before turning up, re‑scored for a larger ensemble at Brandon’s Rhythm & Blooms.
PG: There was a time when you couldn’t count on a straight‑ahead jazz gig here more than once a month. It was a lot of near‑misses at first. Different bands, one‑off gigs, festivals. I’d look up and think, ‘Oh, Brandon’s on this one? Cool, it’ll be a good night.’ Or I’d see Zach walk in with his charts and know, ‘OK, we’re going to actually play, not just get through the tunes.’ Now we’ve got weekly series, rotating bands, a circuit you can actually plan around.
BR: Our calendars are wild. Some weeks I feel like I’m living out of my car, just bass in the back, tie in the glove compartment. But a full schedule means something’s happening.
PG: That didn’t just appear. A lot of people put in work. It’s not glamorous most of the time. But then you get one tune where everything locks in, and somebody in the front row closes their eyes and leans back like they just heard the exact song they didn’t know they needed.
Jazz at the MACC started with an audience of 50 and has swelled to 350. Brandon’s first Rhythm & Blooms concert estimated a headcount of 250. Roughly 600 listeners flooded the garden grounds. To pull it all off, the trio relies on a trusted group of collaborators.
PG: We’re picky, but it’s not about chops. There are lots of players with chops.
BR: You hear it right away, in their first solo—is this person trying to prove they belong in New York? Or are they trying to connect with the band, with the room? We want people who will hear what’s already happening before they blast their own thing over it.
ZB: I pay attention in the quiet moments. How do they compare with another soloist? How do they react when something unexpected happens? Do they smile? Do they panic? Do they leave space?
They’ve brought in horn players from Miami, vocalists from across the state, and New York musicians who now split their time between big‑city and Gulf circuit. The guests often lead student workshops, broadening their view of what jazz is, has been and can be.
PG: People think of this region as beaches and golf courses and gated communities, but there’s culture here anyone can tap into. Jazz is the first great American art form. It comes out of Black experience, out of struggle and joy, out of churches and street parades. When we play it in Southwest Florida, we’re not importing something from somewhere else. We’re plugging this place into that same current. There are kids here who may never go to New York, and jazz is still their birthright. It’s their history, their inheritance as Americans, even if nobody’s told them that yet.
ZB: Jazz proves that this country can improvise its way forward. It takes all these different voices and finds a way to make them speak together without flattening anybody out. That’s a cultural miracle. And it didn’t happen in a museum. It happened in clubs and bars and back rooms, night after night.
Photography by Christina Bankson
gulf coast jazz collective hits the right notes trio on stage
Through classrooms, workshops and performances across the region, the trio works to ensure jazz remains a cornerstone of Southwest Florida culture for years to come. Brandon (center) also leads the Naples Philharmonic Youth Jazz Orchestra.
In Southwest Florida, much of that modern lineage traces to Dan Miller, a renowned jazz trumpeter and educator who died suddenly in 2022 at age 54. After touring globally for 11 years with the Harry Connick Jr. Orchestra, he came home to Naples, anchoring the scene as a ubiquitous performer, mentor and leader. Brandon now leads Naples Philharmonic Youth Jazz Orchestra, which Dan founded.
BR: My students don’t see genres as walls. They hear colors and moods. That’s promising for a place like this. It means if you give them a well‑played standard, shaped with care, they’ll feel it.
Jazz is a composite artform, an amalgamation of spirituals, blues and ragtime that serves as the foundation of popular music today. In classrooms and concert halls, the trio is helping audiences and emerging performers make that connection, enshrining jazz’s presence on the coast for years to come.
BR: For me, it’s the history. Every line I play is in conversation with somebody—Ray Brown, Ron Carter, my teachers, like Dan Miller. It’s like quoting a poem and knowing there’s Shakespeare in there, and Langston Hughes and something your grandmother said that you can’t even trace back anymore. That’s jazz. All these stories in one note.
ZB: You can’t phone it in. Even though you’re listening so hard you almost forget yourself. You’re remembering a recording you heard 10 years ago while reacting to something the drummer did two seconds ago, and somehow your hands know what to do. That feeling, I haven’t found it anywhere else.