🔗 Share this article Preserving Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Its Foundations in the Shadow of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her newly installed front door. Local helpers had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a showy bird,” she stated, appreciating its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with two lively pavement parties. It was also an act of resistance towards an invading force, she clarified: “We are trying to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of staying in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance shows our dedication to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way.” Protecting Kyiv’s historic buildings may appear paradoxical at a moment when drone attacks regularly target the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers cover broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Fight for History Despite the violence, a group of activists has been working 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 built in 1906 and was initially the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce in the present day,” Danylenko stated. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by display comparable art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area boasts two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Dual Dangers to Heritage But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who demolish protected buildings, unethical officials and a governing class indifferent or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the plan 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 defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been killed. The lengthy conflict meant that everyone 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 continues the more we see deterioration of our society and governing institutions,” he contended. Loss and Neglect One egregious example of destruction is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had committed to preserve its attractive brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a unfriendly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said. “It wasn’t external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character vine-clad house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new red door and period-correct railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing 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 appreciate the past? “Unfortunately they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from such cultural awareness,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Restoration Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she acknowledged. “This activity is a coping mechanism for us. We are striving to save all this history and splendour.” In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first cherish its walls.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her newly installed front door. Local helpers had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a showy bird,” she stated, appreciating its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with two lively pavement parties. It was also an act of resistance towards an invading force, she clarified: “We are trying to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of staying in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance shows our dedication to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way.” Protecting Kyiv’s historic buildings may appear paradoxical at a moment when drone attacks regularly target the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers cover broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Fight for History Despite the violence, a group of activists has been working 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 built in 1906 and was initially the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce in the present day,” Danylenko stated. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by display comparable art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area boasts two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Dual Dangers to Heritage But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who demolish protected buildings, unethical officials and a governing class indifferent or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the plan 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 defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been killed. The lengthy conflict meant that everyone 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 continues the more we see deterioration of our society and governing institutions,” he contended. Loss and Neglect One egregious example of destruction is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had committed to preserve its attractive brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a unfriendly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said. “It wasn’t external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character vine-clad house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new red door and period-correct railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing 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 appreciate the past? “Unfortunately they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from such cultural awareness,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Restoration Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she acknowledged. “This activity is a coping mechanism for us. We are striving to save all this history and splendour.” In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first cherish its walls.