Protecting the Capital's Architectural Legacy: An Urban Center Reconstructing Itself Under the Threat of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her freshly fitted front door. The restoration team had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its curved shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peacock,” she commented, appreciating its twig-detailed details. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who commemorated the work with a couple of lively pavement parties.

It was also an demonstration of defiance towards a foreign power, she clarified: “Our aim is to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way. We have no fear of staying in our country. I had the option to depart, starting anew to another European nation. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our commitment to our homeland.”

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

Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage seems paradoxical at a moment when missile strikes frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each attack, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to secure residential buildings.

Within the Conflict, a Battle for History

Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been attempting to save the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.

“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce in the present day,” Danylenko stated. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by showcase similar art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.

Multiple Challenges to History

But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who demolish historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a governing class apathetic or resistant to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate presents another difficulty.

“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. 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 further alleged that the plan 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 community-oriented activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who inexplicably ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see degradation of our society and public institutions,” he remarked.

Demolition and Disregard

One egregious example of destruction is in the waterside 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 full-scale invasion, heavy machinery demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new shopping and business centre, watched by a unfriendly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining turquoise-painted 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, rebuilding its primary street after the second world war so it could allow for military vehicles.

Upholding the Legacy

One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was fell in 2022 while serving in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, she said.

“It wasn’t aerial bombardments that eliminated them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character ivy-draped house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and period-correct railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors.

“The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left.”

The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not appreciate the past? “Sadly they are without 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 civilization,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking remained, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Therapy in Preservation

Some buildings are crumbling because of institutional abandonment. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; refuse lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are attempting to save all this history and beauty.”

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