Preserving Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: A City Rebuilding Itself in the Shadow of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her newly installed front door. Volunteers had playfully nicknamed its graceful transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its bowed shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, admiring its twig-detailed ornamentation. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with a couple of lively pavement parties.

It was also an demonstration of defiance in the face of a foreign power, she clarified: “We are trying to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of staying in our homeland. I could have left, moving away to another European nation. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.”

“Our aim is to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way.”

Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage seems strange at a time when missile strikes regularly target the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers board up blown-out windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to secure residential buildings.

Among the Conflict, a Battle for History

In the midst of war, a group of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its facade is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.

“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce nowadays,” Danylenko stated. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby exhibit comparable art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a turret on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.

Dual Threats to Heritage

But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body unconcerned or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate presents another difficulty.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We lack genuine 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 destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the vision for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals.

Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once protected older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who inexplicably ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he contended.

Destruction and Neglect

One notorious example of destruction is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with 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 demolished it. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, watched 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 asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, redesigning its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most notable champions of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.

“It wasn’t foreign rockets that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful vine-clad 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 last another 20 years. If we neglect 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 citizens not value the past? “Unfortunately they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to go to the west. But we are still not yet close from that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking persisted, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added.

Hope in Preservation

Some buildings are crumbling because of institutional abandonment. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; debris lay under a storybook tower. “Often we are unsuccessful,” she acknowledged. “This activity is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.”

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