Preserving Kyiv's Heritage: An Urban Center Rebuilding Itself Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its graceful transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, gazing at its branch-like details. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with two impromptu pavement parties.

It was also an act of resistance in the face of an invading force, she explained: “We are trying to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of living in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, relocating to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.”

“We strive to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way.”

Safeguarding Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered unusual at a moment when missile strikes frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, offensive operations have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers cover broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.

Among the Explosions, a Battle for Identity

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

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce in the present day,” Danylenko stated. The building was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit similar art nouveau elements, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area boasts two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.

Dual Threats to Legacy

But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze listed buildings, unethical officials and a governing class unconcerned or resistant to the city’s vast architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another difficulty.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have 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 flatten important houses. Perov stated that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor has refuted these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.

Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked.

Loss and Abandonment

One egregious location of loss is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, excavators tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new shopping and business centre, 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 destroyed old properties while claiming they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate military vehicles.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was lost his life in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his important preservation work. There were initially 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy business magnates. Only 80 of their original doors remain, 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 neglect architecture now little will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character vine-clad house built in 1910, which acts 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 historic washroom and antique mirrors.

“The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left.”

The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not cherish the past? “Regrettably 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 that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.

Resilience in Restoration

Some buildings are collapsing because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “This activity is therapy for us. We are trying to save all this past and splendour.”

In the face of conflict and neglect, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first protect its walls.

Michael Gilbert
Michael Gilbert

Elena is a seasoned journalist with a passion for uncovering global stories and sharing diverse perspectives on current events.