Preserving the Capital's Heritage: A City Rebuilding Its Foundations Under the Threat of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed 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, admiring its branch-like features. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with several neighbourhood pavement parties.

It was also an demonstration of opposition against a neighboring state, she explained: “We strive to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of remaining in Ukraine. I had the option to depart, moving away to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.”

“Our aim is to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way.”

Protecting Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered strange at a time when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers seal shattered windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to save residential buildings.

Amid the Explosions, a Campaign for Beauty

Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been working to save the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko said. The building was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by showcase comparable art nouveau features, including an irregular shape – with a pointed turret on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.

Multiple Dangers to Legacy

But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down historically significant buildings, corrupt officials and a administrative body apathetic or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate presents another burden.

“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We lack substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a previous decade. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.

Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once protected older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing monetary strain, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he argued.

Loss and Abandonment

One notorious location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 invasion, excavators razed it to the ground. 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 faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A 20th-century empire also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could accommodate official processions.

Carrying the Torch

One of Kyiv’s most prominent champions of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was killed in 2022 while fighting in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his important preservation work. There were initially 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s successful business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.

“It wasn’t external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful creeper-covered house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and original-style railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors.

“The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left.”

The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not cherish the past? “Unfortunately they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to move towards the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.

Therapy in Preservation

Some buildings are collapsing because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons nested among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Often we don’t win,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this past and aesthetic value.”

In the face of war and neglect, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to save a city’s soul, you must first protect its walls.