Safeguarding the Capital's Architectural Legacy: An Urban Center Rebuilding Itself in the Shadow of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peacock,” she remarked, gazing at its tree limb-inspired details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with several lively pavement parties.

It was also an demonstration of defiance in the face of an invading force, she explained: “We are trying to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. We have no fear of remaining in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our allegiance to our homeland.”

“Our aim is 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 paradoxical at a period when aerial assaults regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers seal shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.

Among the Conflict, a Fight for Identity

Despite the violence, a collective of activists has been working to save the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its outer walls is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.

“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare in the present day,” Danylenko stated. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase similar art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One much-loved house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.

Multiple Threats to Legacy

But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who demolish protected buildings, unethical officials and a political leadership unconcerned or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another challenge.

“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was allied with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov further alleged that the plan for the capital comes straight out of a different time. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals.

Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once championed older properties were now serving in the military or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and public institutions,” he contended.

Demolition and Abandonment

One egregious location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new shopping and business centre, observed by a surly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while asserting they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, redesigning its primary street after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was killed in 2022 while fighting in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy business magnates. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said.

“It wasn’t aerial bombardments that eliminated them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing 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 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 last 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? “Sadly they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from that standard,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Hope in Action

Some buildings are falling apart because of official neglect. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons nested among its shattered windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we lose the battle,” she admitted. “Restoration is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and splendour.”

In the face of conflict and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one door at a time, arguing that to save a city’s heart, you must first save its stones.