Protecting Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Itself in the Shadow of War.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its elegant transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peacock,” she remarked, gazing at its twig-detailed features. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who commemorated the work with two impromptu pavement parties.

It was also an expression of opposition against a foreign power, she explained: “We strive to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of staying in our homeland. I could have left, starting anew to another European nation. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our commitment to our homeland.”

“Our aim is to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way.”

Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered paradoxical at a period when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers seal broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.

Among the Explosions, a Battle for History

Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been attempting to preserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was first the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.

“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity display similar art nouveau characteristics, including a lack of symmetry – 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 devil.

Dual Dangers to Heritage

But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down historically significant buildings, corrupt officials and a administrative body unconcerned or resistant to the city’s vast architectural history. The harsh winter climate imposes another difficulty.

“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We are missing genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s mayor was allied with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov further alleged that the plan for the capital comes straight out of a different time. The mayor has refuted these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.

Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that the entire society was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see deterioration of our society and state bodies,” he contended.

Loss and Neglect

One egregious example of destruction is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had committed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the onset of major hostilities, excavators tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a surly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate military vehicles.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most notable defenders of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was killed in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. 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 erected for the city’s successful business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.

“It wasn’t external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped 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 authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors.

“The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left.”

The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to move towards the west. But we are still not yet close from such cultural awareness,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Resilience in Preservation

Some buildings are falling apart because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons roosted among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we don’t win,” she conceded. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are trying to save all this history and aesthetic value.”

In the face of war and neglect, these volunteers continue their work, one door at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s identity, you must first save its history.