🔗 Share this article Preserving Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: An Urban Center Rebuilding Itself in the Shadow of War. Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she commented, gazing at its tree limb-inspired 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 a couple of impromptu pavement parties. It was also an act of resistance towards a foreign power, she explained: “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our homeland. I had the option to depart, starting anew to another European nation. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear paradoxical at a time when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, aerial raids have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers cover broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Bombs, a Fight for Identity Amid the bombs, a collective of activists has been working to save the city’s decaying mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce in the present day,” Danylenko said. The residence was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity display comparable art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a pointed turret on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Several Challenges to Legacy But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who demolish protected buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class unconcerned or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The harsh 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 alleged the city’s mayor was closely associated with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor has refuted these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once protected older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that the entire society 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 continues the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he argued. Loss and Abandonment One notorious example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the full-scale invasion, excavators tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new shopping and business centre, observed by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate official processions. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors survived, she said. “It was not external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped 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 crimson entrance and authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not cherish the past? “Sadly they do not have 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. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Preservation Some buildings are falling apart because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; debris lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this history and splendour.” In the face of war and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first protect its walls.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she commented, gazing at its tree limb-inspired 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 a couple of impromptu pavement parties. It was also an act of resistance towards a foreign power, she explained: “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our homeland. I had the option to depart, starting anew to another European nation. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear paradoxical at a time when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, aerial raids have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers cover broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Bombs, a Fight for Identity Amid the bombs, a collective of activists has been working to save the city’s decaying mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce in the present day,” Danylenko said. The residence was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity display comparable art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a pointed turret on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Several Challenges to Legacy But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who demolish protected buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class unconcerned or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The harsh 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 alleged the city’s mayor was closely associated with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor has refuted these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once protected older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that the entire society 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 continues the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he argued. Loss and Abandonment One notorious example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the full-scale invasion, excavators tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new shopping and business centre, observed by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate official processions. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors survived, she said. “It was not external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped 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 crimson entrance and authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not cherish the past? “Sadly they do not have 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. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Preservation Some buildings are falling apart because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; debris lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this history and splendour.” In the face of war and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first protect its walls.