Safeguarding Kyiv's Heritage: An Urban Center Rebuilding Its Foundations Under the Threat of War.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her newly installed front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a whimsical nod to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, admiring its branch-like ornamentation. The refurbishment initiative 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 resistance towards a neighboring state, she explained: “We are trying to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way. We have no fear of remaining in Ukraine. I could have left, starting anew to Italy. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.”
“Our aim is to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way.”
Preserving Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered paradoxical at a moment when drone attacks regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each attack, workers seal shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings.
Amid the Explosions, a Battle for Identity
Amid the bombs, a collective of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s deteriorating 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 initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.
“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon nowadays,” Danylenko stated. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit analogous art nouveau features, including asymmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area features two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.
Dual Challenges to Heritage
But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a governing class apathetic or resistant to the city’s rich architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another burden.
“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was allied with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital harks back to a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals.
Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once championed older properties were now serving in the military or had been killed. The lengthy conflict meant that everyone was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he remarked.
Demolition and Disregard
One notorious demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated 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 blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while claiming they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, redesigning its primary street after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades.
Carrying the Torch
One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell in 2022 while fighting in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s prosperous entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their authentic doors are still in existence, she said.
“It wasn’t external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful 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 red door and original-style railings; inside is a period bathroom 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 occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not appreciate the past? “Unfortunately they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still not yet close from such cultural awareness,” he said. Previous ways of thinking persisted, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added.
Hope in Action
Some buildings are crumbling because of official neglect. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons nested among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we don’t win,” she conceded. “Restoration is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this history and splendour.”
In the face of war and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to save a city’s soul, you must first protect its stones.