Protecting the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Rebuilding Its Foundations Amidst the Onslaught of War.

Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its bowed shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, gazing at its branch-like ornamentation. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with a couple of lively pavement parties.

It was also an demonstration of resistance towards an invading force, she elaborated: “We strive to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way. We’re not afraid of remaining in our country. I could have left, relocating to a foreign land. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance shows our commitment to our homeland.”

“We strive to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way.”

Protecting Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered paradoxical at a time when aerial assaults routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers seal blown-out windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings.

Within the Conflict, a Campaign for Identity

In the midst of war, a band of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was initially the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit comparable art nouveau elements, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One much-loved house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.

Dual Dangers to Heritage

But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down protected buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class unconcerned or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate imposes another difficulty.

“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We lack real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a previous decade. The mayor has refuted these claims, stating they come from political rivals.

Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once championed 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 judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see decline of our society and state bodies,” he argued.

Loss and Neglect

One notorious location of loss is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the full-scale invasion, diggers razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new shopping and business centre, watched by a surly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while claiming they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A former political system also caused immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell in 2022 while fighting in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s wealthy business magnates. Only 80 of their original doors remain, she said.

“It wasn’t external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique ivy-draped house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and period-correct railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.

“The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left.”

The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not cherish the past? “Regrettably they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking lingered, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Hope in Restoration

Some buildings are falling apart because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons nested among its smashed windows; refuse lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.”

In the face of war and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, believing that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first save its walls.