🔗 Share this article Protecting the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Its Foundations Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a peacock,” she remarked, admiring its twig-detailed features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with several neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance towards a foreign power, she elaborated: “We strive to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way. We’re not afraid of living in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered paradoxical at a moment when missile strikes regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers seal broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Among the Conflict, a Battle for Beauty 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 central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was originally the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its exterior is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by showcase similar art nouveau elements, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Threats to Heritage But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze listed buildings, dishonest officials and a governing class indifferent or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents another challenge. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We lack substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s mayor was allied with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital harks back to a bygone era. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once protected older properties were now serving in the military or had been killed. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing financial problems, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he contended. Demolition and Neglect One notorious example of destruction is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the onset of major hostilities, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new retail and office development, 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 destroyed old properties while asserting they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most notable champions of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell in 2022 while serving in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his important preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their original doors survived, she said. “It was not external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered 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 vermilion portal and period-correct railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing 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 value the past? “Unfortunately 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 a way off from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking persisted, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Action Some buildings are collapsing because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons nested among its shattered windows; debris lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this past and beauty.” In the face of conflict and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, believing that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its stones.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a peacock,” she remarked, admiring its twig-detailed features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with several neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance towards a foreign power, she elaborated: “We strive to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way. We’re not afraid of living in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered paradoxical at a moment when missile strikes regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers seal broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Among the Conflict, a Battle for Beauty 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 central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was originally the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its exterior is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by showcase similar art nouveau elements, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Threats to Heritage But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze listed buildings, dishonest officials and a governing class indifferent or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents another challenge. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We lack substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s mayor was allied with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital harks back to a bygone era. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once protected older properties were now serving in the military or had been killed. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing financial problems, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he contended. Demolition and Neglect One notorious example of destruction is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the onset of major hostilities, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new retail and office development, 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 destroyed old properties while asserting they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most notable champions of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell in 2022 while serving in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his important preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their original doors survived, she said. “It was not external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered 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 vermilion portal and period-correct railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing 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 value the past? “Unfortunately 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 a way off from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking persisted, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Action Some buildings are collapsing because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons nested among its shattered windows; debris lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this past and beauty.” In the face of conflict and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, believing that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its stones.