Protecting the Capital's Heritage: A City Rebuilding Its Foundations Amidst the Onslaught of War.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its graceful transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, admiring its branch-like ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with several neighbourhood pavement parties.
It was also an act of resistance in the face of a neighboring state, she clarified: “We strive to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of remaining in Ukraine. I had the option to depart, relocating to another European nation. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.”
“We are trying to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way.”
Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear paradoxical at a moment when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been notably increased. After each assault, workers cover broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to secure residential buildings.
Among the Conflict, a Battle for Identity
In the midst of war, a group of activists has been attempting to preserve 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 built in 1906 and was first the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.
“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare today,” Danylenko stated. The building was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by showcase analogous art nouveau features, including a lack of symmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a projection on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.
Multiple Dangers to Heritage
But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down protected buildings, unethical officials and a governing class unconcerned or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents another difficulty.
“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov added that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a different time. The mayor rejects these claims, stating they come 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 all citizens was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he argued.
Loss and Abandonment
One notorious location of loss is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had pledged to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the full-scale invasion, diggers demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, 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 destroyed old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could allow for official processions.
Carrying the Torch
One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was lost his life in 2022 while engaged in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his important preservation work. There were originally 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.
“It was not aerial bombardments that eliminated them. It was us,” she lamented. “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 creeper-covered house built in 1910, which functions 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 last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left.”
The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not cherish the past? “Unfortunately they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still not yet close from such cultural awareness,” he said. Previous ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.
Hope in Restoration
Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a fairytale tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this past and beauty.”
In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to preserve a city’s identity, you must first save its walls.