🔗 Share this article Preserving the Capital's Heritage: An Urban Center Rebuilding Its Foundations in the Shadow of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. The restoration team had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, appreciating its twig-detailed features. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who commemorated the work with two impromptu pavement parties. It was also an expression of opposition towards a neighboring state, she explained: “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of living in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to Italy. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered strange at a time when drone attacks routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers board up blown-out windows with plywood and try, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Campaign for History Amid the bombs, a collective of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its outer walls is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce today,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby display comparable art nouveau features, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Challenges to Heritage But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body indifferent or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We lack 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 concept for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. 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 fallen. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see deterioration of our society and governing institutions,” he contended. Loss and Disregard One egregious location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its attractive brick facade. A day after the onset of major hostilities, heavy machinery tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new shopping and business centre, monitored by a surly 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 stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most renowned advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was fell in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s wealthy business magnates. Only 80 of their original doors survived, she said. “It wasn’t foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped 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 original-style railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left.” The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to move towards the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking persisted, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a storybook tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she admitted. “This activity is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and beauty.” In the face of war and development pressures, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its stones.
Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. The restoration team had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a peafowl,” she commented, appreciating its twig-detailed features. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who commemorated the work with two impromptu pavement parties. It was also an expression of opposition towards a neighboring state, she explained: “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of living in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to Italy. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered strange at a time when drone attacks routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, bombing campaigns have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers board up blown-out windows with plywood and try, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Campaign for History Amid the bombs, a collective of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its outer walls is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce today,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby display comparable art nouveau features, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Multiple Challenges to Heritage But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body indifferent or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We lack 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 concept for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. 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 fallen. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see deterioration of our society and governing institutions,” he contended. Loss and Disregard One egregious location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its attractive brick facade. A day after the onset of major hostilities, heavy machinery tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new shopping and business centre, monitored by a surly 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 stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades. Continuing the Work One of Kyiv’s most renowned advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was fell in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s wealthy business magnates. Only 80 of their original doors survived, she said. “It wasn’t foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped 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 original-style railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left.” The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to move towards the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking persisted, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added. Resilience in Restoration Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a storybook tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she admitted. “This activity is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and beauty.” In the face of war and development pressures, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its stones.