🔗 Share this article Preserving Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Its Foundations Under the Threat of War. Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her freshly fitted front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a peacock,” she stated, admiring its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with two neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an act of resistance against a neighboring state, she elaborated: “We strive to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. We’re not afraid of staying in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy may appear strange at a time when aerial assaults routinely fall the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each strike, workers board up broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Amid the Bombs, a Battle for Beauty Despite the violence, a group of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was initially the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko said. The building was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase similar art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp. Dual Challenges to History But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down protected buildings, corrupt officials and a political leadership unconcerned or resistant to the city’s rich architectural history. The harsh winter climate adds another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was closely associated with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov further alleged that the vision 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 community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens was facing financial problems, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see deterioration of our society and governing institutions,” he argued. Demolition and Disregard One glaring location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had pledged to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the full-scale invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a unfriendly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could allow for large-scale parades. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most renowned champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s prosperous business magnates. Only 80 of their original doors remain, she said. “It wasn’t aerial bombardments that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique 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 vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not cherish the past? “Sadly they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Hope in Action Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons nested among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are striving to save all this history and beauty.” In the face of destruction and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one building at a time, believing that to save a city’s soul, you must first cherish its walls.
Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her freshly fitted front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a peacock,” she stated, admiring its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with two neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an act of resistance against a neighboring state, she elaborated: “We strive to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. We’re not afraid of staying in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy may appear strange at a time when aerial assaults routinely fall the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each strike, workers board up broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Amid the Bombs, a Battle for Beauty Despite the violence, a group of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was initially the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko said. The building was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase similar art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp. Dual Challenges to History But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down protected buildings, corrupt officials and a political leadership unconcerned or resistant to the city’s rich architectural history. The harsh winter climate adds another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was closely associated with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov further alleged that the vision 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 community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens was facing financial problems, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see deterioration of our society and governing institutions,” he argued. Demolition and Disregard One glaring location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had pledged to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the full-scale invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a unfriendly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could allow for large-scale parades. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most renowned champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s prosperous business magnates. Only 80 of their original doors remain, she said. “It wasn’t aerial bombardments that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique 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 vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not cherish the past? “Sadly they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Hope in Action Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons nested among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are striving to save all this history and beauty.” In the face of destruction and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one building at a time, believing that to save a city’s soul, you must first cherish its walls.