Preserving the Capital's Heritage: A City Rebuilding Itself Amidst the Onslaught of War.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its bowed shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, admiring its twig-detailed ornamentation. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with two impromptu pavement parties.
It was also an demonstration of defiance against a neighboring state, she elaborated: “We strive to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way. We’re not afraid of living in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to another European nation. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.”
“We are trying to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way.”
Safeguarding Kyiv’s historic buildings may appear paradoxical at a moment when missile strikes regularly target the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each strike, workers board up broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings.
Among the Bombs, a Campaign for Beauty
Despite the violence, a band of activists has been striving to save the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was initially the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.
“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby exhibit comparable art nouveau characteristics, including a lack of symmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One popular house in the area features two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.
Several Dangers to Legacy
But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who demolish listed buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership indifferent or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate presents another difficulty.
“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We lack real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov added that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals.
Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and state bodies,” he remarked.
Demolition and Disregard
One glaring example of destruction is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, diggers demolished it. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new shopping and business centre, observed by a unfriendly security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining blue-green 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, redesigning its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate official processions.
Carrying the Torch
One of Kyiv’s most renowned advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors survived, she said.
“It was not aerial bombardments that destroyed them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character creeper-covered house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new red door and original-style railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors.
“The war could continue 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 residents not value the past? “Unfortunately they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still not yet close from such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.
Hope in Preservation
Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons nested among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this past and aesthetic value.”
In the face of war and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s heart, you must first cherish its walls.