Protecting the Capital's Heritage: An Urban Center Reconstructing Itself Under the Threat of Conflict.
Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its graceful transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peacock,” she stated, gazing at its twig-detailed features. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with a couple of impromptu pavement parties.
It was also an expression of defiance against an invading force, she explained: “Our aim is to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in Ukraine. I could have left, moving away to another European nation. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance shows our dedication to our homeland.”
“We are trying to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way.”
Protecting Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered paradoxical at a time when drone attacks frequently hit the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each attack, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to secure residential buildings.
Among the Bombs, a Fight for History
Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been working to save the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a playful 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 decorated with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.
“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce today,” Danylenko stated. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase analogous art nouveau features, including a lack of symmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a projection on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.
Several Threats to Heritage
But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze listed buildings, corrupt officials and a administrative body indifferent or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate imposes another burden.
“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We lack real 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 stated that the plan for the capital comes straight out of a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals.
Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once championed older properties were now serving in the military or had been killed. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see decline of our society and public institutions,” he contended.
Loss and Neglect
One egregious example of destruction is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new commercial complex, monitored by a stern security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while claiming they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also caused immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles.
Carrying the Torch
One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on 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 remain, she said.
“It wasn’t foreign rockets that destroyed them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique vine-clad house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and original-style railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors.
“The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left.”
The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not cherish the past? “Sadly they lack 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 that standard,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.
Therapy in Restoration
Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she conceded. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this history and beauty.”
In the face of war and neglect, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, arguing that to save a city’s identity, you must first cherish its stones.
