Protecting the Capital's Heritage: An Urban Center Rebuilding Itself Under the Threat of War.

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she commented, appreciating its branch-like features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with two impromptu pavement parties.

It was also an act of resistance towards a foreign power, she clarified: “We are trying to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of remaining in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to Italy. Instead, 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 shaping our life in the optimal way.”

Preserving Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered unusual 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 assault, workers seal shattered windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.

Amid the Explosions, a Battle for Identity

In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been attempting to preserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was initially the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its exterior is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko noted. The building was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase analogous art nouveau features, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One popular house in the area features two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.

Dual Dangers to Legacy

But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a governing class unconcerned or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate imposes another burden.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov added that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a different time. The mayor rejects these claims, attributing them 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 lengthy conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see deterioration of our society and governing institutions,” he argued.

Demolition and Neglect

One notorious location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had pledged to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, heavy machinery demolished it. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new commercial complex, watched by a stern security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could allow for official processions.

Carrying the Torch

One of Kyiv’s most renowned advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s successful business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors survived, she said.

“It wasn’t aerial bombardments that eliminated them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character ivy-draped 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 original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.

“The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left.”

The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals 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 a way off from civilization,” he said. Previous ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Hope in Preservation

Some buildings are collapsing because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Often we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “This activity is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this history and aesthetic value.”

In the face of war and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to save a city’s soul, you must first protect its walls.