Safeguarding the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Itself in the Shadow of War.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. The restoration team had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, appreciating its branch-like features. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who celebrated with a couple of impromptu pavement parties.

It was also an act of resistance against a foreign power, she clarified: “We are trying to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way. We have no fear of remaining in Ukraine. I could have left, moving away to a foreign land. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.”

“We strive to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way.”

Protecting Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear unusual at a moment when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers seal broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings.

Within the Explosions, a Battle for Identity

In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a whimsical 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 facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.

“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce today,” Danylenko noted. The building was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase comparable art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One popular house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.

Dual Dangers to Legacy

But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership indifferent or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another burden.

“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We don’t have real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s leadership was closely associated with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov stated that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a previous decade. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.

Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now serving in the military or had been killed. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see deterioration of our society and governing institutions,” he contended.

Loss and Abandonment

One egregious example of destruction is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the full-scale invasion, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a surly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while claiming they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most renowned advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while serving in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their period doors survived, she said.

“It wasn’t external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character ivy-draped house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and period-correct railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.

“The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left.”

The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special 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 attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still not yet close from civilization,” he said. Previous ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.

Hope in Restoration

Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons nested among its shattered windows; debris lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we don’t win,” she conceded. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this heritage and beauty.”

In the face of conflict and neglect, these volunteers continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its stones.