🔗 Share this article Safeguarding Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: An Urban Center Rebuilding Itself Under the Threat of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had playfully nicknamed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she stated, appreciating its twig-detailed ornamentation. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with several neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of defiance in the face of a neighboring state, she clarified: “We are trying to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way. We have no fear of remaining in Ukraine. I could have left, starting anew to another European nation. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.” “We strive to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s built legacy seems strange at a time 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 seal broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Conflict, a Fight for Identity Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been attempting to preserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare nowadays,” Danylenko stated. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit analogous art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a turret on the other. One popular house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp. Several Dangers to Heritage But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a political leadership unconcerned or hostile to the city’s rich architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents 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 friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once protected older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The lengthy conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see degradation of our society and public institutions,” he remarked. Loss and Neglect One notorious demolition site 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 picturesque brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a stern security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while claiming they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could accommodate official processions. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his crucial preservation work. There were initially 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous business magnates. Only 80 of their original doors survived, she said. “It was not foreign rockets that destroyed them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character 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 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 locals not cherish the past? “Regrettably they lack 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 such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added. Therapy in Preservation Some buildings are falling apart because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons nested among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this history and aesthetic value.” In the face of conflict and development pressures, these volunteers continue their work, one door at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s identity, you must first cherish its stones.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had playfully nicknamed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she stated, appreciating its twig-detailed ornamentation. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with several neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of defiance in the face of a neighboring state, she clarified: “We are trying to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way. We have no fear of remaining in Ukraine. I could have left, starting anew to another European nation. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.” “We strive to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s built legacy seems strange at a time 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 seal broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Conflict, a Fight for Identity Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been attempting to preserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare nowadays,” Danylenko stated. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit analogous art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a turret on the other. One popular house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp. Several Dangers to Heritage But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a political leadership unconcerned or hostile to the city’s rich architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents 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 friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once protected older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The lengthy conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see degradation of our society and public institutions,” he remarked. Loss and Neglect One notorious demolition site 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 picturesque brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a stern security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while claiming they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could accommodate official processions. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his crucial preservation work. There were initially 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous business magnates. Only 80 of their original doors survived, she said. “It was not foreign rockets that destroyed them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character 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 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 locals not cherish the past? “Regrettably they lack 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 such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added. Therapy in Preservation Some buildings are falling apart because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons nested among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this history and aesthetic value.” In the face of conflict and development pressures, these volunteers continue their work, one door at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s identity, you must first cherish its stones.