🔗 Share this article Protecting the Capital's Architectural Legacy: An Urban Center Rebuilding Itself Under the Threat of War. Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its graceful transom window the “pastry”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, admiring its tree limb-inspired details. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with several neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an expression of defiance towards a foreign power, she elaborated: “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of living in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, relocating to a foreign land. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way.” Preserving Kyiv’s historic buildings seems strange at a time when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers board up broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Battle for History Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been striving to save 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 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 nowadays,” Danylenko said. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby exhibit analogous art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area features two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Several Dangers to History But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who demolish listed buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body indifferent or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh 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 claimed the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing monetary strain, he added, including those in the legal system who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he argued. Loss and Disregard One glaring demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had committed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, heavy machinery razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, observed 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 destroyed old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate military vehicles. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most notable defenders of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was killed in 2022 while engaged 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 erected for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors are still in existence, she said. “It was not external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character 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 red door and original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left.” The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not appreciate the past? “Sadly they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Therapy in Restoration Some buildings are crumbling because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons nested among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she conceded. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of destruction and development pressures, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, stating that to preserve a city’s heart, you must first protect its walls.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its graceful transom window the “pastry”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, admiring its tree limb-inspired details. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with several neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an expression of defiance towards a foreign power, she elaborated: “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of living in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, relocating to a foreign land. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way.” Preserving Kyiv’s historic buildings seems strange at a time when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers board up broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Battle for History Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been striving to save 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 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 nowadays,” Danylenko said. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby exhibit analogous art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area features two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Several Dangers to History But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who demolish listed buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body indifferent or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh 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 claimed the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing monetary strain, he added, including those in the legal system who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he argued. Loss and Disregard One glaring demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had committed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, heavy machinery razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, observed 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 destroyed old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate military vehicles. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most notable defenders of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was killed in 2022 while engaged 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 erected for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors are still in existence, she said. “It was not external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character 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 red door and original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left.” The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not appreciate the past? “Sadly they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Therapy in Restoration Some buildings are crumbling because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons nested among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she conceded. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of destruction and development pressures, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, stating that to preserve a city’s heart, you must first protect its walls.