Preserving the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Rebuilding Its Foundations Under the Threat of Conflict.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her newly installed front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she remarked, admiring its tree limb-inspired details. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who celebrated with a couple of lively pavement parties.
It was also an act of defiance in the face of a neighboring state, she explained: “Our aim is to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way. We’re not afraid of living in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, relocating to Italy. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.”
“We strive to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.”
Protecting Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered unusual at a time when missile strikes frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each strike, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.
Within the Explosions, a Fight for History
Despite the violence, a group of activists has been working to save the city’s decaying mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was originally the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.
“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit similar art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area boasts two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.
Dual Challenges to Legacy
But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down protected buildings, corrupt officials and a administrative body unconcerned or resistant to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another difficulty.
“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We lack substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov stated that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a previous decade. The mayor rejects these claims, stating they come from political rivals.
Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that all citizens was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked.
Loss and Neglect
One egregious example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had pledged to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the full-scale invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a stern security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades.
Carrying the Torch
One of Kyiv’s most prominent champions of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell in 2022 while fighting in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy business magnates. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said.
“It was not foreign rockets that eliminated them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful vine-clad house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and authentic railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.
“The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left.”
The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not value the past? “Sadly 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 such cultural awareness,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.
Therapy in Action
Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we don’t win,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this heritage and splendour.”
In the face of destruction and neglect, these volunteers continue their work, one door at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s heart, you must first cherish its history.