Preserving the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Rebuilding Itself Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its elegant transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, appreciating its branch-like details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with two neighbourhood pavement parties.

It was also an act of resistance in the face of a neighboring state, she elaborated: “Our aim is to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way. We’re not afraid of remaining in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, relocating to Italy. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance shows our dedication to our homeland.”

“We are trying to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way.”

Preserving Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered unusual at a time when missile strikes regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, aerial raids have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers seal broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.

Among the Bombs, a Battle for Identity

Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.

“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase analogous art nouveau features, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.

Multiple Dangers to Legacy

But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze listed buildings, corrupt officials and a administrative body indifferent or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate presents another burden.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We lack genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was closely associated with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov added that the plan for the capital harks back to a bygone era. The mayor has refuted these claims, attributing them from political rivals.

Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once defended older properties were now serving in the military or had been fallen. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who inexplicably 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 remarked.

Destruction and Neglect

One glaring example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new commercial complex, monitored by a stern security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while claiming they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also caused immense damage on the capital, redesigning its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could allow for military vehicles.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most notable defenders of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was fell in 2022 while engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his important preservation work. There were originally 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s wealthy entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.

“It wasn’t foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend 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 also serves 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 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 “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not appreciate the past? “Sadly 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 that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking persisted, with people hesitant 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 roosted among its shattered windows; debris lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “This activity is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this past and beauty.”

In the face of conflict and neglect, these volunteers continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first protect its stones.