Protecting the Capital's Architectural Legacy: An Urban Center Reconstructing Itself Under the Threat of War.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its elegant transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, appreciating its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with two neighbourhood pavement parties.
It was also an expression of defiance against a foreign power, she explained: “Our aim is to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of remaining in our homeland. I could have left, relocating to another European nation. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance represents our allegiance to our homeland.”
“We strive to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way.”
Safeguarding Kyiv’s historic buildings may appear paradoxical at a period when aerial assaults regularly target the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers board up blown-out windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to save residential buildings.
Within the Conflict, a Fight for History
Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been striving to conserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was originally the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its outer walls is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.
“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare today,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit comparable art nouveau features, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.
Multiple Threats to History
But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down listed buildings, corrupt officials and a political leadership apathetic or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another difficulty.
“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We are missing genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov further alleged that the plan for the capital harks back to a previous decade. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.
Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been killed. The protracted conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who inexplicably ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see deterioration of our society and public institutions,” he argued.
Demolition and Disregard
One glaring location of loss is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had pledged to preserve its attractive brick facade. A day after the full-scale invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, observed by a surly security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while claiming they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also wrought immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles.
Carrying the Torch
One of Kyiv’s most notable defenders of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while serving in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their authentic doors remain, she said.
“It wasn’t foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful vine-clad 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 crimson entrance and authentic railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors.
“The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left.”
The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not value the past? “Regrettably they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Previous ways of thinking persisted, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.
Resilience in Action
Some buildings are collapsing because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons roosted among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are trying to save all this past and aesthetic value.”
In the face of destruction and development pressures, these volunteers continue their work, one facade at a time, believing that to save a city’s heart, you must first protect its walls.