Protecting the Capital's Architectural Legacy: An Urban Center Reconstructing Its Foundations in the Shadow of War.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peacock,” she remarked, gazing at its tree limb-inspired features. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who celebrated with two neighbourhood pavement parties.

It was also an expression of opposition towards a neighboring state, she explained: “We are trying to live like ordinary 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 homeland. I could have left, moving away to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.”

“Our aim is to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.”

Protecting Kyiv’s built legacy seems unusual at a period when drone attacks frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been dramatically stepped up. After each attack, workers cover broken windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings.

Amid the Bombs, a Fight for Identity

In the midst of war, a group of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was originally the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.

“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by showcase analogous art nouveau features, including asymmetry – with a medieval spire 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 demonic figure.

Multiple Challenges to Legacy

But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who raze listed buildings, unethical officials and a political leadership apathetic or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another burden.

“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We are missing genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a previous decade. The mayor has refuted these claims, attributing them from political rivals.

Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been killed. The lengthy 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 continues the more we see decline of our society and state bodies,” he remarked.

Loss and Disregard

One glaring demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the full-scale invasion, excavators razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, 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 destroyed old properties while claiming they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could accommodate official processions.

Upholding the Legacy

One of Kyiv’s most notable defenders of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell in 2022 while fighting in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his crucial preservation work. There were initially 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s wealthy entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their authentic doors are still in existence, she said.

“It wasn’t foreign rockets that eliminated them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered house built in 1910, which functions 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 historic washroom and antique mirrors.

“The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left.”

The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not appreciate the past? “Sadly they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, 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 fallen; pigeons roosted among its broken windows; debris lay under a storybook tower. “Often we don’t win,” she admitted. “Preservation work is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this past and splendour.”

In the face of war and development pressures, these volunteers continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s heart, you must first protect its history.