🔗 Share this article Safeguarding the Capital's Heritage: An Urban Center Rebuilding Its Foundations Amidst the Onslaught of War. Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her newly installed front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its curved shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peacock,” she commented, gazing at its twig-detailed features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with a couple of impromptu pavement parties. It was also an act of defiance towards a foreign power, she explained: “Our aim is to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. We have no fear of staying in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way.” Preserving Kyiv’s historic buildings seems unusual at a period when drone attacks frequently hit the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been notably increased. After each strike, workers cover blown-out windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Amid the Bombs, a Battle for Identity Despite the violence, a band of activists has been attempting to save the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive 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 outer walls is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase similar art nouveau features, including asymmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area features two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Multiple Dangers to History But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze protected buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body unconcerned or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was allied with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals. Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been killed. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and state bodies,” he contended. Loss and Disregard One glaring example of destruction is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the onset of major hostilities, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused immense damage on the capital, redesigning its primary street after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most prominent champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were initially 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said. “It wasn’t external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful vine-clad 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 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 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? “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 lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Resilience in Preservation Some buildings are crumbling because of official neglect. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she admitted. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying 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, arguing that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its stones.
Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her newly installed front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its curved shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peacock,” she commented, gazing at its twig-detailed features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with a couple of impromptu pavement parties. It was also an act of defiance towards a foreign power, she explained: “Our aim is to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. We have no fear of staying in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way.” Preserving Kyiv’s historic buildings seems unusual at a period when drone attacks frequently hit the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been notably increased. After each strike, workers cover blown-out windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Amid the Bombs, a Battle for Identity Despite the violence, a band of activists has been attempting to save the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive 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 outer walls is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase similar art nouveau features, including asymmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area features two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Multiple Dangers to History But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze protected buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body unconcerned or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was allied with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals. Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been killed. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and state bodies,” he contended. Loss and Disregard One glaring example of destruction is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the onset of major hostilities, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused immense damage on the capital, redesigning its primary street after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most prominent champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were initially 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said. “It wasn’t external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful vine-clad 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 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 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? “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 lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Resilience in Preservation Some buildings are crumbling because of official neglect. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she admitted. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying 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, arguing that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its stones.