Preserving the Capital's Heritage: A City Reconstructing Itself in the Shadow of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its ornate transom window the “pastry”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “I think it’s more of a peacock,” she remarked, gazing at its tree limb-inspired details. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with a couple of impromptu pavement parties.

It was also an act of opposition against a foreign power, she explained: “Our aim is to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way. We’re not afraid of remaining in Ukraine. I had the option to depart, moving away to another European nation. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our commitment to our homeland.”

“We strive to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.”

Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered strange at a time when aerial assaults routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to secure residential buildings.

Within the Explosions, a Fight for Beauty

Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been working to save the city’s deteriorating 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 exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.

“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase similar art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.

Dual Threats to Heritage

But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze historically significant buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class unconcerned or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate adds another challenge.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor has refuted these claims, attributing them from political rivals.

Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once championed older properties were now serving in the military or had been fallen. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing financial problems, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see deterioration of our society and state bodies,” he remarked.

Destruction and Abandonment

One glaring demolition site 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 attractive brick facade. Shortly following the full-scale invasion, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new shopping and business centre, watched by a surly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while asserting they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, redesigning its central boulevard after the second world war so it could accommodate official processions.

Upholding the Legacy

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

“It wasn’t external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful vine-clad house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new red door and original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.

“The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left.”

The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not appreciate the past? “Sadly 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 some distance away from civilization,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added.

Therapy in Action

Some buildings are collapsing because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a storybook tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “This activity is therapy for us. We are trying to save all this history and beauty.”

In the face of war and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s identity, you must first protect its walls.