Protecting the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Itself in the Shadow of War.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her newly installed front door. The restoration team had playfully nicknamed its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its bowed shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, gazing at its branch-like ornamentation. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with a couple of impromptu pavement parties.

It was also an act of opposition against a foreign power, she explained: “Our aim is to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of living in Ukraine. I had the option to depart, relocating 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 most positive way.”

Protecting Kyiv’s built legacy seems paradoxical at a time when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings.

Within the Conflict, a Campaign for History

Amid the bombs, a collective of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was initially the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its outer walls is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce today,” Danylenko stated. The building was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit analogous art nouveau elements, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One beloved house in the area features two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.

Multiple Challenges to Legacy

But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who demolish historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership apathetic or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The severe winter climate imposes another difficulty.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was closely associated with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor rejects these claims, attributing them from political rivals.

Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now serving in the military or had been lost. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he contended.

Loss and Neglect

One egregious example of destruction is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 invasion, excavators 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 turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while stating they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades.

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 engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors are still in existence, she said.

“It wasn’t aerial bombardments that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character ivy-draped house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and authentic railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors.

“The war could go on for 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 “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not value the past? “Unfortunately 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 remained, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Hope in Restoration

Some buildings are falling apart because of official neglect. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons nested among its shattered windows; debris lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we don’t win,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are striving to save all this past and splendour.”

In the face of war and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to save a city’s heart, you must first save its walls.