🔗 Share this article Protecting Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: A City Rebuilding Itself Under the Threat of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “pastry”, a playful reference to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, gazing at its tree limb-inspired features. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with two impromptu pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance in the face of an invading force, she explained: “We strive to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of living in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to a foreign land. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our commitment to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way.” Protecting Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear strange at a time when missile strikes frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, aerial raids have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings. Within the Bombs, a Fight for Identity Despite the violence, a band of activists has been attempting to save the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby display analogous art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Dual Dangers to History But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze listed buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class unconcerned or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was closely associated with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been lost. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he contended. Destruction and Disregard One glaring demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the full-scale invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new shopping and business centre, monitored by a unfriendly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, redesigning its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could allow for military vehicles. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most renowned champions 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 carrying on his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s prosperous entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said. “It was not foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful creeper-covered 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 red door and original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not cherish the past? “Unfortunately they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to move towards the west. But we are still some distance away from civilization,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are crumbling because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; refuse lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she conceded. “This activity is therapy for us. We are trying to save all this past and beauty.” In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one building at a time, stating that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first save its stones.
Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “pastry”, a playful reference to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, gazing at its tree limb-inspired features. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with two impromptu pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of resistance in the face of an invading force, she explained: “We strive to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of living in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to a foreign land. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our commitment to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way.” Protecting Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear strange at a time when missile strikes frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, aerial raids have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings. Within the Bombs, a Fight for Identity Despite the violence, a band of activists has been attempting to save the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby display analogous art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Dual Dangers to History But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze listed buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class unconcerned or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was closely associated with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been lost. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he contended. Destruction and Disregard One glaring demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the full-scale invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new shopping and business centre, monitored by a unfriendly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, redesigning its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could allow for military vehicles. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most renowned champions 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 carrying on his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s prosperous entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said. “It was not foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful creeper-covered 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 red door and original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not cherish the past? “Unfortunately they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to move towards the west. But we are still some distance away from civilization,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are crumbling because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; refuse lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she conceded. “This activity is therapy for us. We are trying to save all this past and beauty.” In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one building at a time, stating that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first save its stones.