Preserving the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Itself Under the Threat of War.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, appreciating its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who celebrated with two impromptu pavement parties.

It was also an demonstration of opposition in the face of an invading force, she explained: “Our aim is to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of living in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, relocating to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.”

“Our aim is to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.”

Safeguarding Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered unusual at a time when aerial assaults routinely fall the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers board up blown-out windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to secure residential buildings.

Within the Bombs, a Battle for Identity

In the midst of war, a band of activists has been striving to conserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was first the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls 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 Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby exhibit comparable art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.

Dual Dangers to History

But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who demolish listed buildings, unethical officials and a governing class apathetic or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another burden.

“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We are missing genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s mayor was closely associated with many of the developers who destroy 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 community-oriented activists who once protected older properties were now engaged in combat or had been fallen. The lengthy conflict meant that the entire society was facing financial problems, he added, including those in the legal system who mysteriously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he remarked.

Loss and Abandonment

One egregious demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had pledged to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, observed by a surly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while stating they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could allow for large-scale parades.

Upholding the Legacy

One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while fighting in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his important preservation work. There were initially 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said.

“It wasn’t external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful creeper-covered house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and authentic railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.

“The war could continue for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left.”

The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not appreciate the past? “Unfortunately they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still some distance away from civilization,” he said. Previous ways of thinking persisted, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.

Resilience in Preservation

Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons roosted among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this history and aesthetic value.”

In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first cherish its stones.