Preserving the Capital's Heritage: A City Rebuilding Itself Under the Threat of War.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. The restoration team had affectionately dubbed its graceful transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, appreciating its twig-detailed ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with several neighbourhood pavement parties.
It was also an expression of resistance against a neighboring state, she explained: “We strive to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. We’re not afraid of living in Ukraine. I could have left, relocating to a foreign land. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.”
“Our aim is to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way.”
Protecting Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered strange at a period when aerial assaults regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each attack, workers board up blown-out windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings.
Within the Bombs, a Battle for History
Despite the violence, a band of activists has been attempting to save the city’s deteriorating 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 originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.
“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce today,” Danylenko said. The residence was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase comparable art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One popular house in the area features two sullen 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 demolish listed buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership unconcerned or hostile to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another challenge.
“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a different time. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals.
Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been killed. The lengthy conflict meant that the entire society was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see deterioration of our society and state bodies,” he argued.
Demolition and Disregard
One egregious location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a stern security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while claiming they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A former political system also caused immense damage on the capital, redesigning its central boulevard after the second world war so it could allow for official processions.
Upholding the Legacy
One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.
“It wasn’t external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character vine-clad house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves 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 last another 20 years. If we fail to protect 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 residents not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to move towards the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking persisted, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.
Resilience in Preservation
Some buildings are falling apart because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are attempting to save all this past and splendour.”
In the face of war and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, believing that to preserve a city’s heart, you must first protect its stones.