For me, filling the role of arts and culture editor at Gulfshore Life boils down to two formidable maxims. First: Learn everything that has, is and will happen. Second: Uncover the stories in the margins. 

Finding those connections is a never- ending task. A day might start with an art market in Charlotte County, lead into a Lee County concert and end on a debut at one of Collier County’s quarter-dozen theaters. That’s the game. No single piece of the region’s arts scene exists in a vacuum, yet each pocket community is unique. From Punta Gorda’s grassroots craftsmanship, to the collaborative ecosystems of Fort Myers and Bonita Springs, to Naples’ visionary-driven growth, to the islands’ transcendentalist bent—each district crafts a well-written character. 

North of the River

The Artisans Village at Punta Gorda’s History Park is the heart of the region’s maker movement—though less in scale than spirit. The 9-acre green stretch feels more like an old mission than a traditional arts district. Dozens of artisans gather under the A-framed roofs of century-old homes to practice art forms that predate them by a millennium. 

Over the years, the historical society moved five Old Florida structures to the park as a unified historical site. Where the city saw an opportunity to preserve the past, Kathryn Erickson and her cohort at the Southwest Florida Fiber Arts Guild saw a future where the craft arts weren’t secondary, but central to local life. With permission, they cleared away the dust and made space for looms, batik and basketry craftspeople to create and teach. Many members felt shunned from art spaces, their work seen more as practical pursuit or women’s hobby than artistry. So, they created their own place, and soon, other craftsmen followed: Wood, glass and pottery guilds filled the remaining structures with smoke, sawdust and clay slip.

I recommend going out on a Sunday morning, when the peachy smell of plumeria fills the weekly artisan market. In one corner, cypress is whittled into bespoke ink pens. In another, glass wind chimes sway. It’s not flashy or stuffy. There’s a reserved dignity that defines the character of the place—an elder sage who rarely proffers advice but shares wisdom with those who invest the time. 

Lee County Stomping Grounds

On a Tuesday night in November, I attended an impromptu party in a First Street apartment hosted by Fort Myers River District Instagram page operator, Angel Williams, with Sidney & Berne Davis Art Center curator Cesar Aguilera, local songstress Blou Note and a posse of other Lee County creatives. Around 11 p.m., I mentioned I hadn’t seen SBDAC’s exhibit with Richard Bravo. Cesar grabbed his keys: “Who’s up for an after-hours tour?”

A one-block walk later, he flipped on the lights, and my vision adjusted to Richard’s pop culture- and denim-inflected world. It’s the perfect example of what SBDAC exhibits do best—on the pulse, experimental, hyper-local, unpretentious. 

Lee County’s arts scene feels like being let in on an inside joke between lifelong friends. The vibe permeates Downtown Fort Myers on first Fridays with Art Walk. SBDAC times its exhibit openings and rooftop parties to coincide. Florida Repertory Theatre draws people into the more than 130-year-old Historic Arcade Theatre with the smell of Belgian waffles from a front-facing cafe. Arts for ACT Gallery—once championed by Robert Rauschenberg—sends artists out to share their work with the thousands who stroll the brick-laid, sculpture-lined streets.

The dynamic extends to Alliance for the Arts, where gallery walls position masterworks from Joan Sonnenberg alongside student submissions. And further, to Bonita Springs, where the group of musicians behind the 2025-launched Sugarshack Downtown split their energies between sweeping the floors and booking national acts for their nightly concerts. No one is unreachable; everyone is eager to share. 

Sanibel Island Escapism

Southwest Florida’s creative culture is shaped by the coast—particularly on Sanibel and Captiva. The islands are quiet, the pace is slow, the feeling is warm. Decades of careful conservation and city planning have, in large part, kept things small—much the same as the hideaway titans like Robert Rauschenberg and Ikki Matsumoto escaped into decades ago. 

In March, the Robert Rauschenberg Foundation sold its headquarters in Captiva—the late artist’s longtime studio and a pilgrimage site for emerging artists—to South Seas. The waterfront studio’s future is unknown, but for now, you can still follow Robert’s daily path: Walk from The Mucky Duck restaurant, down the coastline, to the stilted structure where his legacy remains as visible in Captiva wood and tin as it does on gallery walls. 

Matsumoto’s legacy is firmly planted in the dunes of Sanibel. His former studio now houses Tower Gallery, and down the road, the artist and his wife, Polly, helped establish the local arts center, BIG ARTS Sanibel, in the ’70s. Today, BIG ARTS is an institution, and a personal favorite. Its sharp architecture and bright-white walls feel in line with prominent contemporary art centers, while wide windows welcome island sunlight, anchoring a sense of place. 

Neapolitan Flair

Naples is rising in the national arts conversation. Last year, our publisher met a Broadway hopeful in Chicago who waxed poetic about Gulfshore Playhouse’s new theater. Most of the theaters I’ve come across in my decade covering the arts have been in disrepair, barely held together by dogged artistic directors. Not so in Naples, where decades of visionary investment are manifesting at a rapid clip.

The arts are imbued into every aspect of life in the city. Under CEO and executive director Bryce Alexander, The Naples Players is training first responders, pioneering access for people with disabilities and launching a secondary school so successful in its first year that Yale professors visited to learn from the model.

Artis—Naples, The Baker Museum, has garnered an influx of attention for contemporary art curator and The Andy Warhol Foundation grant awardee Dianne Brás-Feliciano. Her inaugural exhibit with the museum, 2025’s Entangled in the Mangroves, earned national and statewide awards. Meanwhile, Naples Art Institute consistently brings in blue-chip names, from Matisse to Miró to the Rembrandt exhibition debuting next month. 

But the number one thing on my radar is Theater in the Garden. I recently caught up with Opera Naples co-founder Livio Ferrari on the progress of the project: an outdoor amphitheater, museum and opera house that will serve as The Pavarotti Foundation’s first headquarters outside of Modena, Italy. Dates are up in the air, but the plot on Bayshore is secured. It’s just a matter of time.