🔗 Share this article Preserving Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Itself Under the Threat of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her newly installed front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a showy bird,” she commented, gazing at its branch-like features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who celebrated with a couple of lively pavement parties. It was also an act of opposition against a foreign power, she clarified: “We are trying to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. We’re not afraid of living in our homeland. I could have left, starting anew to another European nation. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our commitment to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered paradoxical at a moment when missile strikes frequently hit 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 broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Among the Bombs, a Battle for Identity Despite the violence, a band of activists has been attempting to preserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its outer walls is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon nowadays,” Danylenko said. The residence was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit comparable art nouveau features, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a projection on the other. One beloved house in the area features two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Several Dangers to Heritage But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who raze listed buildings, unethical officials and a governing class indifferent or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was allied with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov further alleged that the vision for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor has refuted these claims, stating they come from political rivals. Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once championed older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been lost. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, 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 decline of our society and public institutions,” he contended. Demolition and Abandonment One egregious demolition site is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had pledged to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a stern security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while claiming they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most prominent champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his important preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors are still in existence, she said. “It wasn’t external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered 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 vermilion portal and authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left.” The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they do not have 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. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons roosted among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she conceded. “Preservation work is a form of healing for us. We are striving to save all this history and aesthetic value.” In the face of conflict and neglect, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to save a city’s identity, you must first cherish its walls.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her newly installed front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a showy bird,” she commented, gazing at its branch-like features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who celebrated with a couple of lively pavement parties. It was also an act of opposition against a foreign power, she clarified: “We are trying to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. We’re not afraid of living in our homeland. I could have left, starting anew to another European nation. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our commitment to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered paradoxical at a moment when missile strikes frequently hit 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 broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Among the Bombs, a Battle for Identity Despite the violence, a band of activists has been attempting to preserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its outer walls is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon nowadays,” Danylenko said. The residence was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit comparable art nouveau features, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a projection on the other. One beloved house in the area features two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Several Dangers to Heritage But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who raze listed buildings, unethical officials and a governing class indifferent or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was allied with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov further alleged that the vision for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor has refuted these claims, stating they come from political rivals. Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once championed older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been lost. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, 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 decline of our society and public institutions,” he contended. Demolition and Abandonment One egregious demolition site is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had pledged to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a stern security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while claiming they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most prominent champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his important preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors are still in existence, she said. “It wasn’t external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered 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 vermilion portal and authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left.” The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they do not have 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. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons roosted among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she conceded. “Preservation work is a form of healing for us. We are striving to save all this history and aesthetic value.” In the face of conflict and neglect, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to save a city’s identity, you must first cherish its walls.