Food as a Medium: The Artistic Journey of Krystal Mack in Baltimore

BALTIMORE — Food transcends mere sustenance; it is a vibrant narrative packed with history, culture, and emotion. For Krystal Mack, a nationally acclaimed food designer hailing from Baltimore, every dish tells a story. “It makes me proud to be a Baltimorean. It makes me proud to be a Black woman,” she expresses, encapsulating the essence of her culinary and artistic journey.

Planting Seeds in Wilson Park

Nestled in the historic neighborhood of Wilson Park, Mack is transforming her expansive 5,000-square-foot backyard into a community food garden. “We will have crops from the Black American South, from the African diaspora,” she explains. The significance of this location cannot be overstated; Wilson Park, founded in 1917 by Harry Wilson — one of Maryland’s first Black bankers — was originally designed as a sanctuary for Black families amid widespread housing discrimination.

However, current socioeconomic challenges present a stark contrast to Wilson Park’s historic legacy. Known today as a food desert, over 30% of households lack access to a vehicle, and the nearest grocery store is over a quarter-mile away. Mack’s community garden aims to restore both access to fresh produce and a chance for communal growth, echoing the sustainability practices ingrained in the history of Black culture.

Designing Conversations, Not Just Meals

Krystal Mack identifies as a “food designer,” merging culinary techniques with artistic expression to ignite essential dialogues. “Starting conversations that we wouldn’t generally have in a restaurant space, exploring food histories,” she observes. Her eclectic home library boasts nearly 400 cookbooks, including several featuring her own innovative work.

Mack’s artistic endeavors transcend the realm of mere cooking. Collaborations with institutions like the Walters Art Museum serve to honor overlooked histories, such as that of Sybby Grant—an enslaved cook whose legacy lingered within the museum’s historic mansion. Mack deliberates, “I don’t think a lot of people think about slavery in Baltimore City, but it existed.” By crafting installations that channel Grant’s voice, Mack encourages reflection and dialogue about past injustices.

At the Baltimore Museum of Art, her piece titled “Table of White Supremacy” confronts the systemic underrepresentation of people of color in positions of power. For Mack, this work is invaluable. “Not so much designing a product, but more so designing interactions,” she clarifies.

Reclaiming Complicated Histories

Through her art, Mack also reclaims ingredients interwoven with painful narratives, converting them into tools for healing and connection. During an indigo dyeing demonstration, she utilizes foods like sweet potatoes, dates, bananas, and beets to feed the fermentation vat, keeping the indigo alive—a nod to a cash crop heavily tied to the transatlantic slave trade. She reflects, “I wanted to find a way to work with food that could be restorative to me.”

Food as Healing

For Mack, food functions as a vehicle for healing, extending beyond mere culinary exploration. One of her most poignant projects, “How to Take Care,” combines recipes and stories from contributors worldwide. Rooted in her own childhood challenges, proceeds from the project support organizations like the House of Ruth, dedicated to assisting survivors of domestic violence. Mack admits, “I wasn’t expecting it to have such a large reach and impact,” showcasing the profound influence of her work.

Building a Path for Others

Despite her national acclaim, including becoming the first artist in U.S. Artist Fellowship history to be recognized for her use of food as an artistic medium, Mack’s journey has not been without obstacles. “I didn’t go to art school or culinary school. I didn’t go to college,” she acknowledges. As one of the few Black women in the food design domain, the undervaluation of her work resonates deeply. “When they’re devaluing the work that I’m doing, it’s almost like they’re devaluing the work of their grandmothers or their ancestors or their mothers. And that’s kind of heartbreaking,” she shares.

Yet, Mack finds hope in her mission. “It’s been difficult to build that path,” she says. “But what gives me hope and pride and joy is knowing that in building that path, there are other folks behind me who’ll have an easier way to go.” As she looks ahead to expanding her community programming and establishing a studio space, her commitment to using food as a bridge to connect the past, present, and future remains unwavering.