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

Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her newly installed front door. Volunteers had playfully nicknamed its elegant transom window the “pastry”, a lighthearted tribute to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she stated, admiring its twig-detailed features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who commemorated the work with a couple of neighbourhood pavement parties.

It was also an act of opposition in the face of an invading force, she explained: “We are trying to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way. We’re not afraid of living in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, relocating to another European nation. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.”

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

Preserving Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered unusual at a period when aerial assaults regularly target the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers board up blown-out windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings.

Amid the Explosions, a Battle for Beauty

In the midst of war, a collective 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 historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.

“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce nowadays,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit comparable art nouveau characteristics, including an irregular shape – with a pointed turret on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.

Multiple Challenges to Legacy

But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a political leadership apathetic or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate presents another challenge.

“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We don’t have real 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 destroy important houses. Perov stated that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor rejects these claims, attributing them from political rivals.

Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once championed older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been killed. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see deterioration of our society and state bodies,” he remarked.

Demolition and Disregard

One notorious demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had committed to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new shopping and business centre, observed by a unfriendly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while asserting they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A former political system also caused immense damage on the capital, redesigning its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could allow for official processions.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while serving in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s successful entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their authentic doors are still in existence, she said.

“It was not foreign rockets that eliminated them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character vine-clad 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 crimson entrance and authentic railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.

“The war could continue 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 “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not appreciate the past? “Sadly they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to go to the west. But we are still not yet close from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking persisted, with people hesitant 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 tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a storybook tower. “Often we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “This activity is a form of healing for us. We are attempting to save all this past and beauty.”

In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one facade at a time, believing that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its walls.