Protecting the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Its Foundations Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, admiring its branch-like features. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who celebrated with two impromptu pavement parties.

It was also an act of opposition against a foreign power, she elaborated: “We are trying to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. We’re not afraid of remaining in Ukraine. I had the option to depart, relocating to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.”

“We strive to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way.”

Preserving Kyiv’s historic buildings seems strange at a period when aerial assaults regularly target the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each attack, workers seal shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.

Amid the Explosions, a Fight for Identity

Despite the violence, a band of activists has been working to preserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was first the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its facade is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.

“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce nowadays,” Danylenko said. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby exhibit comparable art nouveau features, including a lack of symmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a projection on the other. One much-loved house in the area boasts two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.

Dual Dangers to History

But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who demolish historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership indifferent or resistant to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate presents another challenge.

“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We are missing genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals.

Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The lengthy conflict meant that the entire society was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who inexplicably ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and governing institutions,” he contended.

Destruction and Abandonment

One egregious demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had pledged to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery demolished it. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a stern security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was killed in 2022 while fighting in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his important preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors are still in existence, she said.

“It was not aerial bombardments that eliminated them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character vine-clad house built in 1910, which functions 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 last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left.”

The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not value the past? “Unfortunately they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added.

Hope in Preservation

Some buildings are falling apart because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons roosted among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she conceded. “This activity is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this heritage and beauty.”

In the face of war and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to save a city’s soul, you must first save its history.