🔗 Share this article Safeguarding Kyiv's Heritage: A City Rebuilding Itself Under the Threat of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, gazing at its branch-like ornamentation. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with several impromptu pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of opposition in the face of an invading force, she elaborated: “We are trying to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of remaining in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance represents our allegiance to our homeland.” “We strive to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s historic buildings seems unusual at a period when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been notably increased. After each strike, workers cover broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Fight for Beauty In the midst of war, a band of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase similar art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area features two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Threats to Legacy But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who raze listed buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body indifferent or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate presents another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s leadership was allied with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the concept for the capital comes straight out of a previous decade. The mayor rejects these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once protected older properties were now serving in the military or had been killed. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked. Demolition and Disregard One egregious location of loss is in the waterside 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, heavy machinery tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, monitored by a stern security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while stating they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most renowned champions of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his important preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said. “It was not external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves 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 neglect architecture now nothing will be left.” The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not cherish the past? “Unfortunately 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 some distance away from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking remained, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Therapy in Preservation Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a fairytale tower. “Often we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this history and beauty.” In the face of conflict and neglect, these citizens continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first protect its walls.
Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she remarked, gazing at its branch-like ornamentation. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with several impromptu pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of opposition in the face of an invading force, she elaborated: “We are trying to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of remaining in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance represents our allegiance to our homeland.” “We strive to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s historic buildings seems unusual at a period when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been notably increased. After each strike, workers cover broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Fight for Beauty In the midst of war, a band of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase similar art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area features two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Threats to Legacy But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who raze listed buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body indifferent or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate presents another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s leadership was allied with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the concept for the capital comes straight out of a previous decade. The mayor rejects these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once protected older properties were now serving in the military or had been killed. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked. Demolition and Disregard One egregious location of loss is in the waterside 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, heavy machinery tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, monitored by a stern security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while stating they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most renowned champions of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his important preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said. “It was not external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves 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 neglect architecture now nothing will be left.” The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not cherish the past? “Unfortunately 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 some distance away from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking remained, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Therapy in Preservation Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a fairytale tower. “Often we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this history and beauty.” In the face of conflict and neglect, these citizens continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first protect its walls.