🔗 Share this article Preserving the Capital's Architectural Legacy: An Urban Center Rebuilding Itself Under the Threat of War. Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. The restoration team had playfully nicknamed its elegant transom window the “pastry”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, appreciating its branch-like details. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who commemorated the work with two impromptu pavement parties. It was also an expression of opposition towards a foreign power, she clarified: “We are trying to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of remaining in our country. I had the option to depart, starting anew to another European nation. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our allegiance to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way.” Protecting Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear paradoxical at a moment when missile strikes regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers seal broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings. Amid the Explosions, a Campaign for Identity In the midst of war, a band of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its facade is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit analogous art nouveau characteristics, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Threats to History But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down listed buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body apathetic or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another difficulty. “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 mayor was friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor has refuted these claims, saying they originate from political rivals. Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been fallen. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens 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 deterioration of our society and state bodies,” he remarked. Loss and Abandonment One egregious demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had pledged to preserve its attractive brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, observed by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could allow for large-scale parades. Continuing the Work 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 initially 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said. “It was not foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful creeper-covered house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates 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 little 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 cherish the past? “Unfortunately they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Action Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she conceded. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this history and beauty.” In the face of war and development pressures, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to preserve a city’s heart, you must first cherish its history.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. The restoration team had playfully nicknamed its elegant transom window the “pastry”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, appreciating its branch-like details. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who commemorated the work with two impromptu pavement parties. It was also an expression of opposition towards a foreign power, she clarified: “We are trying to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of remaining in our country. I had the option to depart, starting anew to another European nation. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our allegiance to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way.” Protecting Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear paradoxical at a moment when missile strikes regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers seal broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings. Amid the Explosions, a Campaign for Identity In the midst of war, a band of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its facade is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit analogous art nouveau characteristics, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Threats to History But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down listed buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body apathetic or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another difficulty. “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 mayor was friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor has refuted these claims, saying they originate from political rivals. Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been fallen. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens 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 deterioration of our society and state bodies,” he remarked. Loss and Abandonment One egregious demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had pledged to preserve its attractive brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, observed by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could allow for large-scale parades. Continuing the Work 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 initially 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said. “It was not foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful creeper-covered house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates 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 little 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 cherish the past? “Unfortunately they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Action Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she conceded. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this history and beauty.” In the face of war and development pressures, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to preserve a city’s heart, you must first cherish its history.