🔗 Share this article Safeguarding Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: An Urban Center Reconstructing Itself Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, appreciating its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who celebrated with a couple of neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an act of resistance against an invading force, she elaborated: “Our aim is to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of living in our country. I had the option to depart, starting anew to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.” “We strive to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered strange at a moment when missile strikes regularly target the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each strike, workers seal broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings. Among the Conflict, a Campaign for Identity Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a whimsical 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 affluent fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by display comparable art nouveau features, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area features two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Several Threats to Heritage But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down protected buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership apathetic or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The harsh winter climate adds another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital is reminiscent of a different time. The mayor has refuted these claims, stating they come 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 killed. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see degradation of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked. Loss and Neglect One glaring location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the onset of major hostilities, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new shopping and business centre, watched by a unfriendly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while claiming they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also caused immense damage on the capital, redesigning its primary street after the second world war so it could allow for official processions. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, she said. “It wasn’t foreign rockets that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful creeper-covered house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and original-style railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not cherish the past? “Unfortunately they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still not yet close from that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Therapy in Action Some buildings are crumbling because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she admitted. “This activity is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this history and beauty.” In the face of war and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first protect its history.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, appreciating its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who celebrated with a couple of neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an act of resistance against an invading force, she elaborated: “Our aim is to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of living in our country. I had the option to depart, starting anew to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.” “We strive to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered strange at a moment when missile strikes regularly target the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each strike, workers seal broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings. Among the Conflict, a Campaign for Identity Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a whimsical 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 affluent fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by display comparable art nouveau features, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area features two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Several Threats to Heritage But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down protected buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership apathetic or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The harsh winter climate adds another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital is reminiscent of a different time. The mayor has refuted these claims, stating they come 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 killed. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see degradation of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked. Loss and Neglect One glaring location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the onset of major hostilities, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new shopping and business centre, watched by a unfriendly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while claiming they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also caused immense damage on the capital, redesigning its primary street after the second world war so it could allow for official processions. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, she said. “It wasn’t foreign rockets that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful creeper-covered house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and original-style railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not cherish the past? “Unfortunately they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still not yet close from that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Therapy in Action Some buildings are crumbling because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she admitted. “This activity is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this history and beauty.” In the face of war and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first protect its history.