Protecting the Capital's Heritage: A City Rebuilding Itself in the Shadow of War.

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had playfully nicknamed its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, appreciating its twig-detailed features. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with several lively pavement parties.

It was also an expression of resistance towards a neighboring state, she explained: “We are trying to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in Ukraine. I could have left, starting anew to Italy. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance shows our dedication to our homeland.”

“We are trying to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way.”

Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear strange at a time when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, offensive operations have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers board up blown-out windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to save residential buildings.

Within the Conflict, a Campaign for History

In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been working to conserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was first the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.

“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by showcase comparable art nouveau features, including asymmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.

Dual Challenges to Legacy

But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down protected buildings, unethical officials and a governing class unconcerned or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another challenge.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital harks back to a bygone era. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.

Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once championed older properties were now serving in the military or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing monetary strain, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see deterioration of our society and governing institutions,” he contended.

Loss and Neglect

One egregious 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 agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the full-scale invasion, diggers demolished it. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new shopping and business centre, monitored by a surly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while asserting they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, redesigning its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades.

Upholding the Legacy

One of Kyiv’s most notable champions of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell in 2022 while engaged in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his important preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors survived, she said.

“It wasn’t external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique vine-clad house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.

“The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left.”

The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not value the past? “Regrettably they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still not yet close from such cultural awareness,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking remained, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Resilience in Preservation

Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons nested among its shattered windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we don’t win,” she conceded. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are attempting to save all this history and aesthetic value.”

In the face of destruction and development pressures, these volunteers continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to save a city’s identity, you must first cherish its stones.