🔗 Share this article Safeguarding Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Itself in the Shadow of War. Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, admiring its tree limb-inspired features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who commemorated the work with two neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of opposition against a neighboring state, she explained: “Our aim is to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of staying in our homeland. I could have left, relocating to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy seems paradoxical at a period when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers board up broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings. Amid the Explosions, a Battle for History Despite the violence, a group of activists has been striving to conserve the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko stated. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity display comparable art nouveau elements, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area boasts two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Threats to Heritage But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze protected buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body apathetic or resistant to the city’s rich architectural history. The severe winter climate presents another burden. “Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We lack substantive 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 destroy important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital harks back to a bygone era. The mayor denies 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 fallen. The lengthy 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 public institutions,” he remarked. Destruction and Neglect One egregious location of loss is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the full-scale invasion, excavators razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a stern 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 stating they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also caused immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most notable champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life 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 originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, she said. “It was not external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character vine-clad house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and period-correct railings; inside is a historic washroom 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 tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added. Therapy in Restoration Some buildings are falling apart because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons nested among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we don’t win,” she conceded. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this past and beauty.” In the face of war and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first protect its stones.
Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, admiring its tree limb-inspired features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who commemorated the work with two neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of opposition against a neighboring state, she explained: “Our aim is to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of staying in our homeland. I could have left, relocating to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy seems paradoxical at a period when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers board up broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings. Amid the Explosions, a Battle for History Despite the violence, a group of activists has been striving to conserve the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko stated. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity display comparable art nouveau elements, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area boasts two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Threats to Heritage But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze protected buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body apathetic or resistant to the city’s rich architectural history. The severe winter climate presents another burden. “Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We lack substantive 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 destroy important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital harks back to a bygone era. The mayor denies 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 fallen. The lengthy 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 public institutions,” he remarked. Destruction and Neglect One egregious location of loss is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the full-scale invasion, excavators razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a stern 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 stating they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also caused immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most notable champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life 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 originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, she said. “It was not external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character vine-clad house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and period-correct railings; inside is a historic washroom 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 tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added. Therapy in Restoration Some buildings are falling apart because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons nested among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we don’t win,” she conceded. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this past and beauty.” In the face of war and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first protect its stones.