Preserving the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Rebuilding Itself Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its elegant transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a showy bird,” she stated, admiring its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with two impromptu pavement parties.
It was also an act of opposition against an invading force, she elaborated: “We strive to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our homeland. I had the option to depart, moving away to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance shows our commitment to our homeland.”
“Our aim is to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way.”
Preserving Kyiv’s historic buildings may appear paradoxical at a time when drone attacks regularly target the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, aerial raids have been dramatically stepped up. After each strike, workers board up blown-out windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings.
Amid the Explosions, a Campaign for Beauty
In the midst of war, a group of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a distinctive 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 wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.
“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by display similar art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a projection on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.
Several Challenges to Heritage
But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who demolish protected buildings, corrupt officials and a administrative body apathetic or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another challenge.
“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We don’t have genuine 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 is reminiscent of a previous decade. The mayor rejects these claims, attributing them from political rivals.
Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been fallen. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who inexplicably ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see degradation of our society and governing institutions,” he contended.
Demolition and Neglect
One notorious example of destruction 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 charming brick facade. Shortly following the full-scale invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, observed by a stern security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades.
Upholding the Legacy
One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his vital preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.
“It wasn’t foreign rockets that eliminated them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could go on for 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 acts 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 historic washroom and antique mirrors.
“The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend 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 value the past? “Sadly they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to move towards the west. But we are still a way off from that standard,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.
Resilience in Preservation
Some buildings are falling apart because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; refuse lay under a whimsical tower. “Often we don’t win,” she conceded. “Preservation work is a form of healing for us. We are striving to save all this past and splendour.”
In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first protect its stones.