🔗 Share this article Protecting the Capital's Heritage: A City Reconstructing Itself Under the Threat of War. Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her newly installed front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, 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 marked the occasion with a couple of neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance in the face of a foreign power, she elaborated: “We strive to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way. We have no fear of staying in our country. I had the option to depart, moving away to another European nation. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered unusual at a period when drone attacks frequently hit the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings. Amid the Bombs, a Campaign for Beauty Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been attempting to preserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare today,” Danylenko stated. The mansion was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby display similar art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp. Multiple Threats to History But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a governing class apathetic or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The harsh winter climate imposes another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We lack genuine 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 stated that the plan for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor rejects these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he remarked. Demolition and Disregard One notorious example of destruction is in the historic 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. A day after the onset of major hostilities, heavy machinery demolished it. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new shopping and business centre, watched by a stern security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing 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 tour guide and blogger, was lost his life in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his important preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors remain, she said. “It was not foreign rockets that eliminated them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful vine-clad house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves 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 last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left.” The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not value the past? “Regrettably they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are collapsing because of official neglect. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we don’t win,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is a form of healing for us. We are striving to save all this history and aesthetic value.” In the face of war and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to preserve a city’s heart, you must first save its history.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her newly installed front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, 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 marked the occasion with a couple of neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance in the face of a foreign power, she elaborated: “We strive to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way. We have no fear of staying in our country. I had the option to depart, moving away to another European nation. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered unusual at a period when drone attacks frequently hit the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings. Amid the Bombs, a Campaign for Beauty Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been attempting to preserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare today,” Danylenko stated. The mansion was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby display similar art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp. Multiple Threats to History But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a governing class apathetic or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The harsh winter climate imposes another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We lack genuine 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 stated that the plan for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor rejects these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he remarked. Demolition and Disregard One notorious example of destruction is in the historic 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. A day after the onset of major hostilities, heavy machinery demolished it. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new shopping and business centre, watched by a stern security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing 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 tour guide and blogger, was lost his life in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his important preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors remain, she said. “It was not foreign rockets that eliminated them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful vine-clad house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves 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 last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left.” The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not value the past? “Regrettably they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are collapsing because of official neglect. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we don’t win,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is a form of healing for us. We are striving to save all this history and aesthetic value.” In the face of war and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to preserve a city’s heart, you must first save its history.