🔗 Share this article Safeguarding the Capital's Heritage: An Urban Center Rebuilding Itself Under the Threat of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her newly installed front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she stated, gazing at its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with a couple of neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an expression of opposition towards an invading force, she clarified: “We strive to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of remaining in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to another European nation. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our commitment 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.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy may appear unusual at a moment when missile strikes regularly target the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers board up broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to save residential buildings. Within the Bombs, a Fight for Identity Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been striving to conserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko said. The building was designed by a designer of Central European 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. Several Dangers to History But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who demolish protected buildings, unethical officials and a political leadership apathetic or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The harsh winter climate imposes another challenge. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s mayor was closely associated with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital harks back to a previous decade. The mayor has refuted these claims, attributing them 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 economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who mysteriously ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he argued. Demolition and Disregard One glaring location of loss is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, excavators tore it down. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new retail and office development, observed 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 asserting they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A 20th-century empire also inflicted immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most renowned champions of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was lost his life in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors are still in existence, she said. “It was not external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful vine-clad house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and period-correct railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect 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 attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Restoration Some buildings are collapsing because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; debris lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we don’t win,” she conceded. “This activity is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s heart, you must first cherish its stones.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her newly installed front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she stated, gazing at its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with a couple of neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an expression of opposition towards an invading force, she clarified: “We strive to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of remaining in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to another European nation. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our commitment 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.” Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy may appear unusual at a moment when missile strikes regularly target the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers board up broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to save residential buildings. Within the Bombs, a Fight for Identity Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been striving to conserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko said. The building was designed by a designer of Central European 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. Several Dangers to History But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who demolish protected buildings, unethical officials and a political leadership apathetic or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The harsh winter climate imposes another challenge. “Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s mayor was closely associated with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital harks back to a previous decade. The mayor has refuted these claims, attributing them 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 economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who mysteriously ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he argued. Demolition and Disregard One glaring location of loss is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, excavators tore it down. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new retail and office development, observed 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 asserting they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A 20th-century empire also inflicted immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most renowned champions of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was lost his life in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors are still in existence, she said. “It was not external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful vine-clad house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and period-correct railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect 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 attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Restoration Some buildings are collapsing because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; debris lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we don’t win,” she conceded. “This activity is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s heart, you must first cherish its stones.