Preserving the Capital's Heritage: A City Rebuilding Itself Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. Volunteers had playfully nicknamed its elegant transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she stated, gazing at its tree limb-inspired details. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with several impromptu pavement parties.

It was also an demonstration of defiance towards an invading force, she explained: “Our aim is to live like normal 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 homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to a foreign land. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.”

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

Safeguarding Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered paradoxical at a time when drone attacks regularly target the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.

Among the Conflict, a Fight for Beauty

Despite the violence, a collective of activists has been attempting to save the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.

“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce today,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by showcase similar art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One popular house in the area features two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.

Dual Threats to Legacy

But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze listed buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership apathetic or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another challenge.

“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We lack real 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 flatten important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a bygone era. 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 engaged in combat or had been killed. The ongoing conflict meant that the entire society was facing monetary strain, 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 argued.

Demolition and Abandonment

One glaring location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, watched by a surly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate military vehicles.

Carrying the Torch

One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors survived, she said.

“It was not aerial bombardments that destroyed them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique vine-clad 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 original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.

“The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left.”

The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not appreciate the past? “Unfortunately they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to move towards the west. But we are still some distance away from such cultural awareness,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.

Therapy in Action

Some buildings are crumbling because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its smashed windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are attempting to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.”

In the face of conflict and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one building at a time, believing that to save a city’s soul, you must first save its stones.