🔗 Share this article Protecting the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Itself Under the Threat of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. The restoration team had affectionately dubbed its graceful transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, appreciating its twig-detailed 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 neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance against a foreign power, she clarified: “We strive to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of living in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, 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 regardless of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered unusual at a moment when aerial assaults regularly target the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been dramatically stepped up. After each strike, workers seal broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Among the Conflict, a Campaign for History Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been striving to conserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare today,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity display analogous art nouveau features, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Multiple Dangers to Legacy But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze protected buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body apathetic or hostile to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another burden. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was closely associated with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov further alleged that the plan for the capital comes straight out 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 defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and governing institutions,” he contended. Demolition and Disregard One notorious demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new shopping and business centre, watched by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused 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 champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, she said. “It wasn’t external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique vine-clad 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 vermilion portal and authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little 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? “Sadly they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to move towards the west. But we are still some distance away from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Resilience in Action Some buildings are crumbling because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a whimsical tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this past and aesthetic value.” In the face of conflict and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its stones.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. The restoration team had affectionately dubbed its graceful transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, appreciating its twig-detailed 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 neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance against a foreign power, she clarified: “We strive to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of living in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, 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 regardless of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered unusual at a moment when aerial assaults regularly target the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been dramatically stepped up. After each strike, workers seal broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Among the Conflict, a Campaign for History Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been striving to conserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare today,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity display analogous art nouveau features, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Multiple Dangers to Legacy But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze protected buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body apathetic or hostile to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another burden. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was closely associated with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov further alleged that the plan for the capital comes straight out 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 defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and governing institutions,” he contended. Demolition and Disregard One notorious demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new shopping and business centre, watched by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused 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 champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, she said. “It wasn’t external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique vine-clad 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 vermilion portal and authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little 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? “Sadly they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to move towards the west. But we are still some distance away from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Resilience in Action Some buildings are crumbling because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a whimsical tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this past and aesthetic value.” In the face of conflict and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its stones.