🔗 Share this article Protecting the Capital's Heritage: An Urban Center Reconstructing Itself Under the Threat of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, admiring its branch-like features. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with two neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance towards an invading force, she explained: “Our aim is to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of living in Ukraine. I had the option to depart, moving away to another European nation. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.” “We strive to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage seems paradoxical at a moment when missile strikes regularly target the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings. Within the Conflict, a Campaign for Beauty Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s deteriorating 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 first the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko stated. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by showcase similar art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One much-loved house in the area features two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Dual Threats to History But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a governing class indifferent or resistant to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate adds another burden. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have 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 destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor has refuted 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 lost. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing financial problems, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see deterioration of our society and state bodies,” he remarked. Destruction and Neglect One glaring example of destruction 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 attractive brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, diggers demolished it. 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 not much hope for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while claiming they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could allow for military vehicles. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was killed in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his vital preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their original doors survived, she said. “It was not 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 not a thing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful creeper-covered 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 crimson entrance and period-correct railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little 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 cherish the past? “Unfortunately they do not have 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 that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Preservation Some buildings are falling apart because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this history and splendour.” In the face of war and neglect, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to save a city’s soul, you must first cherish its walls.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, admiring its branch-like features. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with two neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance towards an invading force, she explained: “Our aim is to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of living in Ukraine. I had the option to depart, moving away to another European nation. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.” “We strive to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage seems paradoxical at a moment when missile strikes regularly target the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings. Within the Conflict, a Campaign for Beauty Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s deteriorating 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 first the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko stated. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by showcase similar art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One much-loved house in the area features two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Dual Threats to History But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a governing class indifferent or resistant to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate adds another burden. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have 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 destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor has refuted 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 lost. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing financial problems, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see deterioration of our society and state bodies,” he remarked. Destruction and Neglect One glaring example of destruction 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 attractive brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, diggers demolished it. 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 not much hope for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while claiming they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could allow for military vehicles. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was killed in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his vital preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their original doors survived, she said. “It was not 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 not a thing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful creeper-covered 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 crimson entrance and period-correct railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little 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 cherish the past? “Unfortunately they do not have 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 that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Preservation Some buildings are falling apart because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this history and splendour.” In the face of war and neglect, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to save a city’s soul, you must first cherish its walls.