🔗 Share this article Safeguarding Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Itself Under the Threat of War. Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her newly installed front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its elegant transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, admiring its branch-like details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who commemorated the work with two impromptu pavement parties. It was also an act of defiance towards a foreign power, she explained: “We strive to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to a foreign land. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s built legacy may appear strange at a period when missile strikes regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each strike, workers seal blown-out windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to save residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Fight for Beauty In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been attempting to save the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase comparable art nouveau characteristics, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp. Dual Dangers to Legacy But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down protected buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership unconcerned or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents 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 alleged the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov added that the vision 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 civically minded activists who once protected older properties were now engaged in combat or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and public institutions,” he remarked. Destruction and Disregard One notorious demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. A day after the onset of major hostilities, excavators tore it down. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new commercial complex, observed by a stern 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 asserting they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was lost his life in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors survived, she said. “It wasn’t foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique vine-clad house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates 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 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 “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking persisted, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are falling apart because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she conceded. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this past and beauty.” In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, stating that to rebuild a city’s identity, you must first cherish its stones.
Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her newly installed front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its elegant transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, admiring its branch-like details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who commemorated the work with two impromptu pavement parties. It was also an act of defiance towards a foreign power, she explained: “We strive to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to a foreign land. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s built legacy may appear strange at a period when missile strikes regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each strike, workers seal blown-out windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to save residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Fight for Beauty In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been attempting to save the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce in the present day,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase comparable art nouveau characteristics, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp. Dual Dangers to Legacy But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down protected buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership unconcerned or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents 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 alleged the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov added that the vision 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 civically minded activists who once protected older properties were now engaged in combat or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and public institutions,” he remarked. Destruction and Disregard One notorious demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. A day after the onset of major hostilities, excavators tore it down. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new commercial complex, observed by a stern 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 asserting they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was lost his life in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors survived, she said. “It wasn’t foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique vine-clad house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates 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 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 “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking persisted, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are falling apart because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she conceded. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this past and beauty.” In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, stating that to rebuild a city’s identity, you must first cherish its stones.