🔗 Share this article Safeguarding Kyiv's Heritage: An Urban Center Reconstructing Itself Amidst the Onslaught of War. Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its elegant transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, appreciating its branch-like ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who celebrated with two neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of opposition in the face of a foreign power, she clarified: “Our aim is to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our country. I could have left, relocating to a foreign land. Conversely, 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 best possible way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy seems paradoxical at a period when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers cover broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Bombs, a Fight for Identity Despite the violence, a group of activists has been working to save the city’s decaying mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was first the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase analogous art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a pointed turret 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 History But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze historically significant buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class unconcerned or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The severe winter climate adds another burden. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s mayor was allied with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added 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 public-spirited activists who once championed older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been killed. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked. Destruction and Disregard One glaring demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the onset of major hostilities, diggers 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 blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while asserting they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A 20th-century empire also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate military vehicles. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was killed in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors are still in existence, she said. “It was not foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful 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 crimson entrance and authentic railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend 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 residents not value the past? “Sadly they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to move towards the west. But we are still some distance away from civilization,” he said. Previous ways of thinking remained, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Therapy in Action Some buildings are collapsing because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons nested among its smashed windows; refuse lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she admitted. “Preservation work is a form of healing for us. We are striving to save all this past and splendour.” In the face of conflict and development pressures, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to save a city’s identity, you must first protect its history.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its elegant transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, appreciating its branch-like ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who celebrated with two neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an demonstration of opposition in the face of a foreign power, she clarified: “Our aim is to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our country. I could have left, relocating to a foreign land. Conversely, 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 best possible way.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy seems paradoxical at a period when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each assault, workers cover broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Bombs, a Fight for Identity Despite the violence, a group of activists has been working to save the city’s decaying mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was first the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase analogous art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a pointed turret 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 History But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze historically significant buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class unconcerned or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The severe winter climate adds another burden. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s mayor was allied with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added 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 public-spirited activists who once championed older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been killed. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked. Destruction and Disregard One glaring demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the onset of major hostilities, diggers 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 blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while asserting they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A 20th-century empire also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate military vehicles. Upholding the Legacy One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was killed in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors are still in existence, she said. “It was not foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful 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 crimson entrance and authentic railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend 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 residents not value the past? “Sadly they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to move towards the west. But we are still some distance away from civilization,” he said. Previous ways of thinking remained, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Therapy in Action Some buildings are collapsing because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons nested among its smashed windows; refuse lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she admitted. “Preservation work is a form of healing for us. We are striving to save all this past and splendour.” In the face of conflict and development pressures, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to save a city’s identity, you must first protect its history.