Preserving the Capital's Architectural Legacy: An Urban Center Rebuilding Its Foundations in the Shadow of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peacock,” she stated, gazing at its branch-like features. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who celebrated with two lively pavement parties.

It was also an demonstration of resistance towards a foreign power, she elaborated: “Our aim is to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way. Fear does not drive us of living in Ukraine. I had the option to depart, relocating to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance represents our allegiance to our homeland.”

“We strive to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way.”

Safeguarding Kyiv’s built legacy seems strange at a moment when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers seal shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings.

Amid the Explosions, a Campaign for Identity

Despite the violence, a group of activists has been working to conserve 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 erected in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.

“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase comparable art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a projection on the other. One much-loved house in the area features two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.

Several Threats to Legacy

But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down listed buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class apathetic or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The harsh winter climate adds another burden.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a different time. The mayor rejects 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 protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see decline of our society and public institutions,” he contended.

Destruction and Disregard

One notorious location of loss is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, 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 little optimism for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while asserting they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions.

Carrying the Torch

One of Kyiv’s most notable champions of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was killed in 2022 while fighting in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his important preservation work. There were initially 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors remain, she said.

“It was not aerial bombardments that destroyed them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique ivy-draped house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles 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 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 residents not cherish the past? “Sadly they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to move towards the west. But we are still not yet close from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.

Hope in Restoration

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

In the face of destruction and neglect, these volunteers continue their work, one facade at a time, believing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first save its walls.