Protecting the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Rebuilding Its Foundations in the Shadow of War.

Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its graceful transom window the “croissant”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, gazing at its tree limb-inspired details. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with two impromptu pavement parties.

It was also an expression of opposition against a neighboring state, she elaborated: “We strive to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way. Fear does not drive us of staying in our country. I could have left, starting anew to Italy. Conversely, 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 arranging our life in the best possible way.”

Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear unusual at a period when drone attacks frequently hit the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers seal shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings.

Amid the Conflict, a Battle for History

In the midst of war, a group of activists has been attempting to preserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare in the present day,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by showcase similar art nouveau features, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a projection on the other. One much-loved house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.

Several Challenges to History

But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down listed buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership indifferent or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another challenge.

“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We don’t have substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was closely associated with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a different time. The mayor denies these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.

Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once defended older properties were now serving in the military or had been killed. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing financial problems, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see decline of our society and public institutions,” he remarked.

Loss and Abandonment

One glaring location of loss is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, diggers razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new commercial complex, watched by a unfriendly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while claiming they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, redesigning its central boulevard after the second world war so it could allow for official processions.

Carrying the Torch

One of Kyiv’s most notable champions of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was killed in 2022 while fighting in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his important preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, she said.

“It wasn’t aerial bombardments that got rid of them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique ivy-draped house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles 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 last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left.”

The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not value the past? “Unfortunately they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to move towards the west. But we are still not yet close from civilization,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking persisted, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Resilience in Preservation

Some buildings are collapsing because of official neglect. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons roosted among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “Restoration is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this history and splendour.”

In the face of destruction and neglect, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to save a city’s soul, you must first cherish its stones.

Jose Hurst
Jose Hurst

Elara is a seasoned journalist with a passion for uncovering stories that matter, bringing years of experience in digital media and reporting.