Lou Grande
Lou Grande is a trans masculine artist of Italian-American descent based in Kansas. With academic backgrounds in English and theology from the University of Saint Mary and Newman University, Lou’s path has woven together social advocacy and creative expression. Before transitioning at 30, he worked in the human rights office of the Catholic Church in Kansas City and at a homeless shelter in Wichita. Since then, his work in immigration and refugee resettlement has deepened his commitment to marginalized communities—an ethos that permeates his art. Drawing inspiration from 1970s pop art and New York’s queer art history, Lou uses acrylics and found materials to explore gender diversity, non-conformity, and resilience, celebrating lives that defy categorization.
Acrylic on canvas
Acrylic on canvas
Acrylic on canvas
Lou Grande — The Art of Becoming
In the quiet expanses of Kansas, surrounded by the rhythms of rural life, artist Lou Grande creates from a place of honesty and transformation. A trans masculine artist of Italian-American descent, Lou’s work bridges personal history, identity, and advocacy. Through acrylics and found materials, he constructs visual dialogues that celebrate gender diversity and the resilience of those who live beyond boundaries. Though Lou hesitates to call himself a career artist—his day job is in refugee resettlement—his relationship with art runs deep.
“Making art is a compulsion for me,” he shares. “I do it because I need to, because I’m trying to communicate something about my reality to the rest of the world as a transgender person.” Creativity, for Lou, is not a profession—it’s a language of being.
Yet, this language has not always come easily. During his transition, Lou stopped creating entirely. “I began to fear that my creativity was linked somehow to my femininity, and that I had thrown the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak,” he recalls. What followed was an existential reckoning—an internal redefinition of what it means to make art. “Sometimes, the act of creation must be turned inward to foster an internal transformation. I had to learn that ‘making art’ can refer to the act of self-creation, too—and there’s no rushing it. It happens when it happens.”
As his perspective evolved, so too did his art. Where once Lou sought aesthetic approval, now he seeks truth. “Over time, my artistic perspective has shifted from trying to make people think my art is beautiful to trying to make people think transgender people are beautiful,” he explains. His practice now centers on advocacy, visibility, and celebration—transforming canvases into affirmations of life and identity. “It’s no longer just about what looks good, it’s about what feels real, what heals, and what empowers.” Lou’s journey has also been shaped by painful lessons. He recounts a formative setback in high school, where an inappropriate experience with a teacher drove him away from art. “That moment marked the end of any dreams I had of pursuing art seriously,” he says. But even from that rupture came resilience. “It taught me the importance of reclaiming ownership over my own narrative. I’ve since learned that creativity doesn’t have to be confined to one medium or institution. I now channel that same expressive energy into painting, community engagement, and advocacy—spaces where I can help others feel seen and safe.”
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Remaining authentic in a world that often demands conformity is a deliberate act of courage. “I struggle with the balance between authenticity and marketability,” Lou admits. “The human body, especially the transgender body, figures heavily in my work. I often depict my subjects playfully nude or eroticized—it isn’t exactly algorithm friendly.” But for Lou, self-censorship isn’t an option. “When I find myself thinking, ‘Is this painting going to incite hateful comments or censorship?’ I almost want to make it more provocative purely out of spite—trans people exist, and we are beautiful. We are art.”
Lou’s sources of inspiration reach across time and culture: the New York art scene of the 1970s, Lou Reed’s music, and the pioneering activism of Lou Sullivan. “When it came time to pick a name for myself post-transition, I chose Lou,” he says. “I don’t think I would be here without Sullivan’s activism.” Above all, it is the trans community that continues to sustain and inspire him. “It fills me with wonder and pride when I reflect on the diversity, resiliency, and beauty of the people in my community.”
To emerging artists wrestling with self-doubt, Lou offers heartfelt wisdom: “You can’t please everyone, so make the art you want to see. What did you need to see as a child that would have prepared you for the life you’re living now? There is a child alive right now that needs it, too. What you have to say is important, and the world deserves to know you.”
Lou Grande’s art is more than an aesthetic pursuit—it is a testament to becoming. It reminds us that creation and transformation are intertwined acts, that the process of making art and the process of becoming oneself are often the same.