🔗 Share this article Preserving the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Its Foundations in the Shadow of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her newly installed front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, appreciating its tree limb-inspired features. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with several impromptu pavement parties. It was also an act of defiance in the face of a foreign power, she clarified: “We are trying to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our country. I had the option to depart, starting anew to Italy. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance represents our commitment to our homeland.” “We strive to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage seems paradoxical at a period when missile strikes regularly target the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each attack, workers seal blown-out windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Conflict, a Campaign for History In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been striving to save the city’s decaying mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was initially the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase comparable art nouveau characteristics, including a lack of symmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Dual Dangers to History But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down listed buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body unconcerned or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The severe winter climate presents another burden. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted 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 comes straight out 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 protected older properties were now engaged in combat or had been fallen. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who inexplicably ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see deterioration of our society and public institutions,” he contended. Destruction and Abandonment One notorious example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the onset of major hostilities, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, monitored by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also caused immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its primary street after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades. 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 eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were initially 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful business magnates. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said. “It wasn’t aerial bombardments that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique 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 vermilion portal and period-correct railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not value the past? “Sadly they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from such cultural awareness,” he said. Previous ways of thinking persisted, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons nested among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this past and splendour.” In the face of conflict and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one door at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first save its history.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her newly installed front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, appreciating its tree limb-inspired features. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with several impromptu pavement parties. It was also an act of defiance in the face of a foreign power, she clarified: “We are trying to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our country. I had the option to depart, starting anew to Italy. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance represents our commitment to our homeland.” “We strive to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage seems paradoxical at a period when missile strikes regularly target the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each attack, workers seal blown-out windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Conflict, a Campaign for History In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been striving to save the city’s decaying mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was initially the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase comparable art nouveau characteristics, including a lack of symmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Dual Dangers to History But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down listed buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body unconcerned or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The severe winter climate presents another burden. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted 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 comes straight out 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 protected older properties were now engaged in combat or had been fallen. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who inexplicably ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see deterioration of our society and public institutions,” he contended. Destruction and Abandonment One notorious example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the onset of major hostilities, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, monitored by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also caused immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its primary street after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades. 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 eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were initially 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful business magnates. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said. “It wasn’t aerial bombardments that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique 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 vermilion portal and period-correct railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not value the past? “Sadly they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from such cultural awareness,” he said. Previous ways of thinking persisted, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons nested among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this past and splendour.” In the face of conflict and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one door at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first save its history.