🔗 Share this article Safeguarding the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Rebuilding Itself in the Shadow of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, appreciating its twig-detailed ornamentation. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who celebrated with several lively pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance towards a foreign power, she explained: “Our aim is to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of staying in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our commitment to our homeland.” “We strive to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy seems strange at a moment when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, bombing campaigns have been notably increased. After each strike, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Battle for History In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been working to save the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was first the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity display comparable art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a small tower on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Several Challenges to Heritage But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a political leadership unconcerned or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate adds another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have genuine 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 destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once championed older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been killed. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see deterioration of our society and public institutions,” he remarked. Demolition and Neglect One egregious example of destruction is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had committed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, diggers demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, observed by a unfriendly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, redesigning its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most renowned advocates of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell 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 at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said. “It wasn’t external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique vine-clad 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 period bathroom and antique mirrors. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend 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 citizens not cherish the past? “Sadly they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Preservation Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons nested among its shattered windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are attempting to save all this past and splendour.” In the face of destruction and neglect, these activists continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to rebuild a city’s heart, you must first protect its history.
Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, appreciating its twig-detailed ornamentation. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who celebrated with several lively pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance towards a foreign power, she explained: “Our aim is to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of staying in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our commitment to our homeland.” “We strive to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy seems strange at a moment when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, bombing campaigns have been notably increased. After each strike, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Battle for History In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been working to save the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was first the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity display comparable art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a small tower on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Several Challenges to Heritage But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a political leadership unconcerned or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate adds another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have genuine 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 destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once championed older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been killed. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see deterioration of our society and public institutions,” he remarked. Demolition and Neglect One egregious example of destruction is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had committed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, diggers demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, observed by a unfriendly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, redesigning its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most renowned advocates of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell 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 at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said. “It wasn’t external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique vine-clad 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 period bathroom and antique mirrors. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend 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 citizens not cherish the past? “Sadly they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Preservation Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons nested among its shattered windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are attempting to save all this past and splendour.” In the face of destruction and neglect, these activists continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to rebuild a city’s heart, you must first protect its history.