🔗 Share this article Preserving Kyiv's Heritage: An Urban Center Reconstructing Its Foundations in the Shadow of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its graceful transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, appreciating its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with several lively pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of opposition against an invading force, she elaborated: “We strive to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way. We’re not afraid of remaining in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to a foreign land. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance shows our dedication to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way.” Protecting Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear paradoxical at a time when drone attacks frequently hit the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each assault, workers cover blown-out windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings. Among the Explosions, a Battle for Beauty In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been attempting to save 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 erected in 1906 and was originally the home of a wealthy 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 today,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase similar art nouveau characteristics, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Dual Threats to History But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze protected buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body apathetic or resistant to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate presents another burden. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital harks back to a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see decline of our society and public institutions,” he argued. Demolition and Abandonment One egregious demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a unfriendly 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 former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could allow for official processions. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most prominent 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 continuing his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors remain, she said. “It was not aerial bombardments that destroyed them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character creeper-covered house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new red door and original-style railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not appreciate the past? “Sadly they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its smashed windows; debris lay under a storybook tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she conceded. “Preservation work is a form of healing for us. We are striving to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of war and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one building at a time, believing that to save a city’s heart, you must first save its stones.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its graceful transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, appreciating its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with several lively pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of opposition against an invading force, she elaborated: “We strive to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way. We’re not afraid of remaining in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to a foreign land. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance shows our dedication to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way.” Protecting Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear paradoxical at a time when drone attacks frequently hit the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each assault, workers cover blown-out windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings. Among the Explosions, a Battle for Beauty In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been attempting to save 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 erected in 1906 and was originally the home of a wealthy 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 today,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase similar art nouveau characteristics, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Dual Threats to History But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze protected buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body apathetic or resistant to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate presents another burden. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital harks back to a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see decline of our society and public institutions,” he argued. Demolition and Abandonment One egregious demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a unfriendly 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 former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could allow for official processions. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most prominent 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 continuing his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors remain, she said. “It was not aerial bombardments that destroyed them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character creeper-covered house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new red door and original-style railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not appreciate the past? “Sadly they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its smashed windows; debris lay under a storybook tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she conceded. “Preservation work is a form of healing for us. We are striving to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of war and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one building at a time, believing that to save a city’s heart, you must first save its stones.