🔗 Share this article Safeguarding Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: An Urban Center Reconstructing Its Foundations Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, appreciating its twig-detailed details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with a couple of impromptu pavement parties. It was also an act of defiance in the face of an invading force, she clarified: “We strive to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our country. I could have left, relocating to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s historic buildings seems paradoxical at a period when drone attacks regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been notably increased. After each assault, workers seal blown-out windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Fight for History In the midst of war, a band of activists has been working to preserve the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its outer walls is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko stated. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby display comparable art nouveau features, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area boasts two forlorn 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 profit-driven developers who knock down protected buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body apathetic or resistant to the city’s vast architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another challenge. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We lack substantive 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 added that the vision for the capital harks back to 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 serving in the military or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that the entire society was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who inexplicably ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see decline of our society and state bodies,” he remarked. Loss and Disregard One glaring location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the full-scale invasion, excavators razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new shopping and business centre, monitored by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also wrought immense damage on the capital, redesigning its central boulevard after the second world war so it could allow for official processions. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most renowned champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was killed in 2022 while serving in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his vital preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their original doors are still in existence, she said. “It was not external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and period-correct 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 resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not value the past? “Unfortunately they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Preservation Some buildings are collapsing because of official neglect. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of war and development pressures, these volunteers continue their work, one door at a time, stating that to save a city’s soul, you must first save its history.
Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, appreciating its twig-detailed details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with a couple of impromptu pavement parties. It was also an act of defiance in the face of an invading force, she clarified: “We strive to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our country. I could have left, relocating to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s historic buildings seems paradoxical at a period when drone attacks regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been notably increased. After each assault, workers seal blown-out windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Fight for History In the midst of war, a band of activists has been working to preserve the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its outer walls is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko stated. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby display comparable art nouveau features, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area boasts two forlorn 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 profit-driven developers who knock down protected buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body apathetic or resistant to the city’s vast architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another challenge. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We lack substantive 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 added that the vision for the capital harks back to 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 serving in the military or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that the entire society was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who inexplicably ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see decline of our society and state bodies,” he remarked. Loss and Disregard One glaring location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the full-scale invasion, excavators razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new shopping and business centre, monitored by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also wrought immense damage on the capital, redesigning its central boulevard after the second world war so it could allow for official processions. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most renowned champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was killed in 2022 while serving in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his vital preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their original doors are still in existence, she said. “It was not external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and period-correct 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 resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not value the past? “Unfortunately they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Preservation Some buildings are collapsing because of official neglect. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of war and development pressures, these volunteers continue their work, one door at a time, stating that to save a city’s soul, you must first save its history.