Protecting Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Its Foundations Under the Threat of War.

Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, gazing at its tree limb-inspired details. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with two neighbourhood pavement parties.

It was also an expression of defiance in the face of a neighboring state, she elaborated: “We strive to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of remaining in our homeland. I had the option to depart, relocating to a foreign land. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance represents our commitment to our homeland.”

“We are trying to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way.”

Preserving Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered paradoxical at a moment when drone attacks frequently hit the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers board up broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings.

Within the Explosions, a Campaign for History

Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been striving to preserve 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 facade is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.

“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The building was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit comparable art nouveau characteristics, including a lack of symmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.

Several Challenges to History

But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze historically significant buildings, corrupt officials and a administrative body apathetic or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate presents another challenge.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s leadership was allied with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov further alleged that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals.

Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once protected older properties were now serving in the military or had been killed. 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 dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he argued.

Demolition and Abandonment

One egregious example of destruction is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, heavy machinery demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, watched by a unfriendly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while claiming they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could allow for military vehicles.

Carrying the Torch

One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while serving in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his important preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy business magnates. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said.

“It wasn’t external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could last 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 functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and authentic railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.

“The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing 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? “Sadly they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to move towards the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking persisted, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Hope in Preservation

Some buildings are collapsing because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons roosted among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Often we don’t win,” she admitted. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are striving to save all this history and beauty.”

In the face of destruction and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one building at a time, believing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first save its stones.