🔗 Share this article Safeguarding the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Itself in the Shadow of War. Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. The restoration team had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she stated, admiring its twig-detailed details. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with a couple of neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of defiance towards an invading force, she explained: “Our aim is to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. We have no fear of living in Ukraine. I could have left, starting anew to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our commitment to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear strange at a period when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, aerial raids have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers cover broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Amid the Conflict, a Fight for Identity Despite the violence, a group of activists has been working to conserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was initially the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its facade is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit comparable art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Dual Dangers to Legacy But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze protected buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body unconcerned or hostile to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have real 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 bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once protected older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see deterioration of our society and public institutions,” he contended. Demolition and Neglect One glaring example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had pledged to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, excavators tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, monitored by a stern security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while asserting they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell in 2022 while engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his important preservation work. There were initially 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors remain, she said. “It was not aerial bombardments that destroyed them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and authentic railings; inside is a period bathroom 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 “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not cherish the past? “Sadly they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added. Hope in Action Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this past and aesthetic value.” In the face of conflict and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to save a city’s heart, you must first cherish its history.
Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. The restoration team had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she stated, admiring its twig-detailed details. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with a couple of neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of defiance towards an invading force, she explained: “Our aim is to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. We have no fear of living in Ukraine. I could have left, starting anew to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our commitment to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear strange at a period when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, aerial raids have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers cover broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Amid the Conflict, a Fight for Identity Despite the violence, a group of activists has been working to conserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was initially the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its facade is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit comparable art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Dual Dangers to Legacy But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze protected buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body unconcerned or hostile to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have real 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 bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once protected older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see deterioration of our society and public institutions,” he contended. Demolition and Neglect One glaring example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had pledged to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, excavators tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, monitored by a stern security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while asserting they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell in 2022 while engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his important preservation work. There were initially 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors remain, she said. “It was not aerial bombardments that destroyed them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and authentic railings; inside is a period bathroom 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 “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not cherish the past? “Sadly they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added. Hope in Action Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this past and aesthetic value.” In the face of conflict and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to save a city’s heart, you must first cherish its history.