Protecting the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Its Foundations in the Shadow of War.

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its graceful transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, admiring its twig-detailed details. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who commemorated the work with several lively pavement parties.

It was also an expression of resistance in the face of an invading force, she elaborated: “We are trying to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of living in Ukraine. I had the option to depart, relocating to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our commitment to our homeland.”

“We strive to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way.”

Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered paradoxical at a time when missile strikes regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers cover broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to secure residential buildings.

Amid the Explosions, a Campaign for Identity

In the midst of war, a band of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was originally the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.

“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The building was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit analogous art nouveau features, including a lack of symmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area boasts two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.

Multiple Threats to History

But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down protected buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership apathetic or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The severe winter climate adds another challenge.

“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s mayor was closely associated with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov stated that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals.

Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once championed older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been killed. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing monetary strain, 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 governing institutions,” he argued.

Destruction and Abandonment

One notorious location of loss is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had committed to preserve its attractive brick facade. A day after the full-scale invasion, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, observed by a stern 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 “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, redesigning its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while serving in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were initially 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s wealthy business magnates. Only 80 of their authentic doors are still in existence, she said.

“It was not foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and original-style railings; inside is a historic washroom 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 occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not value the past? “Unfortunately they lack 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 that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.

Hope in Preservation

Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Often we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “This activity is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this past and splendour.”

In the face of destruction and neglect, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to save a city’s heart, you must first save its stones.

Brittany Smith
Brittany Smith

Lena is a digital strategist passionate about emerging technologies and their impact on business growth.