Protecting Kyiv's Heritage: A City Rebuilding Itself Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. The restoration team had playfully nicknamed its graceful transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peacock,” she stated, gazing at its branch-like ornamentation. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with a couple of lively pavement parties.
It was also an expression of resistance towards a foreign power, she clarified: “We are trying to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way. We’re not afraid of living in our country. I could have left, starting anew to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.”
“We strive to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.”
Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy seems unusual at a moment when drone attacks routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been notably increased. After each strike, workers cover broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.
Amid the Bombs, a Fight for Identity
Despite the violence, a band of activists has been striving to save the city’s deteriorating 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 initially the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its outer walls is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.
“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase comparable art nouveau characteristics, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.
Dual Threats to Legacy
But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who raze listed buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership indifferent or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another challenge.
“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was friends 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 denies these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.
Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once protected older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he contended.
Destruction and Abandonment
One glaring location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the full-scale invasion, heavy machinery razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new shopping and business centre, watched by a unfriendly 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 “archaeological research”, he said. A 20th-century empire also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles.
Upholding the Legacy
One of Kyiv’s most renowned advocates of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was lost his life 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 initially 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors survived, she said.
“It wasn’t external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character ivy-draped house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new red door and period-correct railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors.
“The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect 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? “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. Previous ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.
Resilience in Action
Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its smashed windows; refuse lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “This activity is therapy for us. We are trying to save all this history and beauty.”
In the face of conflict and neglect, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first save its history.