🔗 Share this article Preserving the Capital's Heritage: An Urban Center Reconstructing Its Foundations Under the Threat of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she stated, gazing at its twig-detailed details. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with several impromptu pavement parties. It was also an expression of defiance against an invading force, she elaborated: “We strive to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of staying in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, relocating to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.” “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way.” Protecting Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered unusual at a period when aerial assaults regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been notably increased. After each attack, workers cover broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Fight for Identity In the midst of war, a group 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 historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls 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 building was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit comparable art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Challenges to History But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down listed buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership unconcerned or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another burden. “Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We lack real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was closely associated with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov further alleged that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals. Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now serving in the military or had been fallen. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see deterioration of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked. Loss and Neglect One glaring demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had pledged to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while claiming they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also caused immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his vital preservation work. There were initially 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, 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 fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique vine-clad house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and authentic 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 nothing will be left.” The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not value the past? “Regrettably they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Resilience in Preservation Some buildings are crumbling because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she acknowledged. “This activity is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of war and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to save a city’s soul, you must first cherish its history.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she stated, gazing at its twig-detailed details. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with several impromptu pavement parties. It was also an expression of defiance against an invading force, she elaborated: “We strive to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of staying in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, relocating to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.” “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way.” Protecting Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered unusual at a period when aerial assaults regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been notably increased. After each attack, workers cover broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Fight for Identity In the midst of war, a group 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 historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls 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 building was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit comparable art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Challenges to History But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down listed buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership unconcerned or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another burden. “Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We lack real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was closely associated with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov further alleged that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals. Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now serving in the military or had been fallen. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see deterioration of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked. Loss and Neglect One glaring demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had pledged to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while claiming they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also caused immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his vital preservation work. There were initially 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, 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 fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique vine-clad house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and authentic 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 nothing will be left.” The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not value the past? “Regrettably they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Resilience in Preservation Some buildings are crumbling because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she acknowledged. “This activity is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of war and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to save a city’s soul, you must first cherish its history.