Less than two percent of college athletes make it to the pros. It’s a tough pill to swallow for players who dedicate their entire lives to sport, only to pivot to an entirely different career out of necessity. “I was in denial for a while,” Lev Rosenbush tells Hypeart.
Born in Brooklyn and currently based in London, Rosenbush had aspirations to follow in the footsteps of famed American keeper Tim Howard, having attended Ohio’s Kenyon college, only to fall short to ascend to the next level. “It was frustrating because I trained so hard and got to a position where I felt like I was playing at a high level and things just didn’t align at my school.”
Thankfully for Rosenbush, blocking shots wasn’t his only calling in life. In hindsight, the self-described “designer and storyteller” found solace shaping away on the potters wheel between classes, staying late each day at his university’s studio, when it finally dawned on him that he couldn’t picture a scenario where he didn’t have art in his daily life. Rosenbush eventually majored in ceramic design at London’s Central Saint Martins, where he honed in on his craft and further embraced the fervor of British football culture.
While not confined solely to football, Rosenbush founded Studio Halftime to explore his love for the Beautiful Game and “shift the perception of what a sports fan looks like.” Over the past three years, he’s created Serie A-inspired espresso mugs and small capsule collections that can equally be enjoyed in the home of a die-hard footie fan, as well as an art enthusiast.
As a full circle moment, Rosenbush was tapped by adidas to create a series of monolithic sculptures that are a "celebration of the beautiful game and notions of success that we associate with sport, reimagined through sculpture," he says. Formations will be on view at Indra Studio in East London from September 15 to 21. In anticipation of his upcoming show, Hypeart visited Rosenbush's Camberwell studio to learn about his transition from football to art, the parallels both industries share and what he has in store now that he’s found his second calling.
"It’s been the most rewarding thing. I’m not hanging up the boots."
When did art gain an equal interest as soccer?
I started pottery at 14 while in school in Manhattan. Those are key years while pursuing soccer. It was like a supporting act. Soccer was at the forefront, it dawned on me right before I went to college. I never thought I’d be studying fine art, let alone ceramic design in London. But my art teacher asked me confused: “You take my classes twice a day and convince the principal to let you stay in here three hours a day, every day. Why wouldn’t you want to study art?” He simply asked: “Just imagine your day without it and think about if that’s really what you want.”
It was a great point, so I minored in art. That pivoted to my major, always doing pottery at Kenyan in Ohio. Once I took my gap year, it all started to click. I started to teach, which I still do now at Studio Pottery London and Urban Potterz. Living so close to the studio has allowed me to experiment more in my work than if I had to commute long distances.
So when did the pivot happen full-time?
I was in denial for a while. It was frustrating because I trained so hard and got to a position where I felt like I was playing at a high level and things just didn’t align at my school. There was a keeper who was a couple years older. The studio was the safe place after training. I consider myself a designer and a storyteller than a visual artist.
I was in denial for my football career not being exactly what I wanted it to be. I didn’t really have that realization, per se, which is what has made this so incredible and seamless, because I believe my work exists just as much in the sport and football world, as the art and design world. It’s been the most rewarding thing. I’m not hanging up the boots.
My grandfather was a ceramic designer in the most literal sense in the word. He worked with companies in the Midwest to make art for homeware — digital transfers, etc. My grandmother was running the business on the backend of things.
Going back a little further, can you remember your early entrance into art?
There has always been a creative interest and appreciation in my family. Everyone at the primary school I went to growing up had some sort of language disability. I have ADHD and just learn differently. What was instilled in me through sports is grinding it out and getting sh*t done.
I could go into the studio and work till 2am, then come and teach the next day in my gap year. There have been a handful of people who’ve inspired me along the way. New York is incredible and amazing, but it’s also not a place to be where you’re trying to just figure things out. There’s always something going on and distracting. I found by just staying in London after graduating, allowed me to focus on what I was doing.
How would you define your practice now that you’re working as a full-time artist?
It’s rooted in creating new products and telling untold stories through innovative design and not putting things out that have already been done. That is where I see myself thriving the most — continuing that process in whatever sectors of the design space, as well as intersection of art and sports. Right now, my practice is focused on football and ceramics. Going forward, I want to be working across other mediums and concepts to tell other stories and bring unlikely people together. Studio Halftime embodies that.
From a sports perspective, I see my practice as a brand for brands. I want to establish myself as someone in this field who can tell stories and make unique products. Football currently doesn’t exist in the home in a tasteful way. I’m trying to change that and say sports can exist in the home in the same way as a Loewe candle or a similar product. It will inevitably shift the perception of what a sports fan looks like.
The perception of a footballer or fan is a simple-minded person who doesn’t care about art or having nice things. I think there’s such a range though and it’s about opening up the conversation of what a fan and athlete looks like. There’s such a personal element to homeware that is attached to one’s individuality. Someones home is telling about who they are. I’m not trying to replace what’s out there, instead I’m just trying to add to it.
"It’s a moment to re-strategize, plan and imagine new possibilities."
Can you discuss the current project you’ve been working on in the studio, as well as the work you’ve done in related to the FA Cup?
I wanted to create replicas with alternate surface decorations. With the FA Cup, you can see the form of the trophy, but the way I’ll decorate it will reference the history of the tournament and similar to the project I did with Red Star. That’s more of a personal project. I’m just getting ideas out and have all the resources I need. I just need to get them out. Each tier symbolizes different levels of what it takes to be successful.
How about the similarities between the practice of art-making and playing sports?
Being clear-headed, thoughtful and intentional instantly come to mind. Because football and sports came first in my life, I learned a lot of that and from people like my dad.
Outside of sports, what sorts of projects would you like to explore?
Overall, art direction and creative direction are what I’m interested in — whether film or photo. I’m generally interested in telling stories in whichever ways I can.
What has been the greatest advice you’ve gotten?
Can you take us back to the genesis of Studio Halftime and the early projects you worked on?
It started out in college. “Halftime Ceramics” came from my college dissertation. It was a long-form business plan for exactly what I’m doing now. It stemmed from my interest in tea culture and functional-ware. I was thinking about how I could fuse that with sports led to Halftime. In the ‘90s into the ‘00s, you would see tea ladies at football clubs, who’d come in at halftime to get the players to relax a little bit. Of course, in the most British way possible, you’d do that over a cup of tea. These tea ladies began to phases out in clubs, often older women who are so sweet and the heart of the clubs.
I liked the name “Halftime” for that alone, but also in the literal sense of the word, it’s a moment to re-strategize, plan and imagine new possibilities.
Shoutout Dennis McConkey, I haven’t talked to him in ages. But I think about what he asked me a lot. When I graduated college, my dad and step-mom wrote me a list of things they’ve learned since graduating. I study it sometimes and remind myself of life lessons that apply to what I’m doing. My dad’s dream was to be a journalist and he’s doing it now after putting so many years into it. He’s a journalist for The Wall Street Journal, running a team that covers cybersecurity and artificial intelligence.
My mom, step-mom and dad are always working — they are definitely sources of inspiration. My sister went to LaGuardia, which is a performing arts school in New York. She just wants to enjoy her life and do things that bring her happiness in the arts. There’s an interesting balance of inspiration from my family. And my mom, who also went to LaGuardia, has always taught me to be the truest version of myself.
Studio imagery by Shawn Ghassemitari/Hypeart. Formations photography by Sam Nicklin. Portfolio photos courtesy of Lev Rosenbush.
