Safeguarding the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Rebuilding Itself Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had given the moniker its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, gazing at its tree limb-inspired details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who celebrated with several impromptu pavement parties.
It was also an act of defiance against an invading force, she clarified: “Our aim is to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of living in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.”
“We strive to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.”
Protecting Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear paradoxical at a period when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each strike, workers board up broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to secure residential buildings.
Within the Conflict, a Battle for History
Despite the violence, a collective of activists has been striving to conserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.
“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby display analogous art nouveau features, including asymmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area features two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.
Several Challenges to Legacy
But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who demolish listed buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class unconcerned or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents another burden.
“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We lack genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was closely associated with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals.
Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once protected older properties were now serving in the military or had been killed. The protracted conflict meant that all citizens was facing financial problems, he added, including those in the legal system who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see deterioration of our society and state bodies,” he contended.
Loss and Neglect
One glaring example of destruction is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had pledged to preserve its attractive brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, diggers demolished it. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new commercial complex, watched by a surly security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while asserting they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, redesigning its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate military vehicles.
Upholding the Legacy
One of Kyiv’s most notable defenders of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his vital preservation work. There were initially 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their original doors are still in existence, she said.
“It was not aerial bombardments that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new red door and authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors.
“The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left.”
The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to move towards the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added.
Hope in Preservation
Some buildings are collapsing because of official neglect. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its broken windows; debris lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this heritage and splendour.”
In the face of conflict and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one building at a time, believing that to rebuild a city’s heart, you must first save its walls.