Preserving the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Rebuilding Its Foundations in the Shadow of Conflict.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, appreciating its tree limb-inspired features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with several lively pavement parties.
It was also an act of resistance towards an invading force, she clarified: “We are trying to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of living in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to another European nation. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.”
“We are trying to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way.”
Protecting Kyiv’s built legacy seems strange at a moment when missile strikes frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers cover broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings.
Among the Conflict, a Battle for Identity
In the midst of war, a band of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a whimsical 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 affluent fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.
“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce nowadays,” Danylenko stated. The mansion was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase analogous art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a pointed turret on one side and a turret on the other. One much-loved house in the area boasts two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.
Several Threats to Heritage
But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down historically significant buildings, corrupt officials and a political leadership apathetic or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another difficulty.
“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We don’t have substantive 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 further alleged that the concept for the capital harks back to a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.
Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system 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 remarked.
Demolition and Disregard
One glaring demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had pledged to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the full-scale invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new shopping and business centre, watched by a unfriendly security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while claiming they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could allow for large-scale parades.
Carrying the Torch
One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while engaged in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful business magnates. Only 80 of their original doors are still in existence, she said.
“It wasn’t foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique ivy-draped house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new red door and period-correct railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.
“The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left.”
The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not cherish the past? “Regrettably 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 a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.
Hope in Preservation
Some buildings are collapsing because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “Preservation work is a form of healing for us. We are attempting to save all this history and splendour.”
In the face of conflict and neglect, these activists continue their work, one door at a time, stating that to save a city’s soul, you must first save its walls.