Preserving the Capital's Heritage: A City Reconstructing Itself Amidst the Onslaught of War.

Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her newly installed front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its ornate transom window the “pastry”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, appreciating its twig-detailed ornamentation. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who celebrated with two lively pavement parties.

It was also an expression of defiance towards an invading force, she elaborated: “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance shows our dedication to our homeland.”

“We are trying to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.”

Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage seems paradoxical at a time when drone attacks routinely fall the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been dramatically stepped up. After each strike, workers seal blown-out windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to secure residential buildings.

Amid the Conflict, a Campaign for Identity

Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s crumbling 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 first the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.

“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby display comparable art nouveau features, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.

Multiple Dangers to Legacy

But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who raze listed buildings, dishonest officials and a governing class indifferent or hostile to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another burden.

“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We don’t have genuine 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 flatten important houses. Perov added that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a previous decade. The mayor rejects these claims, stating they come from political rivals.

Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing monetary strain, he added, including those in the legal system who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked.

Destruction and Disregard

One notorious demolition site 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 charming brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, observed by a unfriendly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, redesigning its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions.

Upholding the Legacy

One of Kyiv’s most prominent champions of historic buildings, a heritage expert, 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 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors remain, she said.

“It was not aerial bombardments that eliminated them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique ivy-draped 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 red door and authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors.

“The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left.”

The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to move towards the west. But we are still a way off from that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.

Hope in Action

Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this history and beauty.”

In the face of destruction and neglect, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to save a city’s heart, you must first save its history.