🔗 Share this article Preserving the Capital's Heritage: An Urban Center Rebuilding Itself Under the Threat of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, appreciating its branch-like details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who celebrated with several neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance towards a neighboring state, she clarified: “We strive to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our homeland. I could have left, moving away to a foreign land. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.” Protecting Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered unusual at a time when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings. Among the Bombs, a Campaign for History Despite the violence, a collective of activists has been striving to conserve the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase similar art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a turret on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Challenges to Legacy But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership apathetic or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital harks back to a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them 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 lost. The lengthy conflict meant that everyone was facing monetary strain, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he contended. Loss and Abandonment One glaring example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 invasion, excavators razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane prepared 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 coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while claiming they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was lost his life in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their authentic doors remain, she said. “It wasn’t foreign rockets that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique ivy-draped house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and original-style railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors. “The war could go on 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 “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not value the past? “Regrettably they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Hope in Restoration Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; debris lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are attempting to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of destruction and neglect, these volunteers continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s identity, you must first protect its history.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, appreciating its branch-like details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who celebrated with several neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance towards a neighboring state, she clarified: “We strive to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our homeland. I could have left, moving away to a foreign land. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.” Protecting Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered unusual at a time when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings. Among the Bombs, a Campaign for History Despite the violence, a collective of activists has been striving to conserve the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase similar art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a turret on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Challenges to Legacy But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership apathetic or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital harks back to a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them 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 lost. The lengthy conflict meant that everyone was facing monetary strain, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he contended. Loss and Abandonment One glaring example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 invasion, excavators razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane prepared 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 coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while claiming they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was lost his life in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their authentic doors remain, she said. “It wasn’t foreign rockets that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique ivy-draped house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and original-style railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors. “The war could go on 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 “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not value the past? “Regrettably they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Hope in Restoration Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; debris lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are attempting to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of destruction and neglect, these volunteers continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s identity, you must first protect its history.