Protecting the Capital's Heritage: A City Rebuilding Itself Amidst the Onslaught of War.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, appreciating its tree limb-inspired features. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with two neighbourhood pavement parties.

It was also an expression of defiance towards an invading force, she explained: “Our aim is to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of living in our country. I could have left, starting anew to another European nation. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication to our homeland.”

“We strive to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way.”

Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy may appear unusual at a period when aerial assaults frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, offensive operations have been dramatically stepped up. After each attack, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings.

Among the Explosions, a Fight for Identity

Despite the violence, a collective of activists has been attempting to save the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare nowadays,” Danylenko stated. The building was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity showcase similar art nouveau characteristics, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One popular house in the area features two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.

Multiple Challenges to History

But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down listed buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body apathetic or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate presents another challenge.

“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We are missing real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s leadership was closely associated with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a different time. The mayor rejects these claims, attributing them from political rivals.

Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once protected older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been killed. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see degradation of our society and public institutions,” he remarked.

Loss and Disregard

One egregious example of destruction is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had committed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 invasion, diggers demolished it. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a unfriendly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A 20th-century empire also wrought immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most notable champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while fighting in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their original doors are still in existence, she said.

“It wasn’t aerial bombardments that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered house built in 1910, which serves 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 period bathroom and antique mirrors.

“The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left.”

The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not cherish the past? “Regrettably they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from civilization,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking persisted, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Therapy in Preservation

Some buildings are falling apart because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons nested among its smashed windows; debris lay under a storybook tower. “Often we don’t win,” she conceded. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this history and beauty.”

In the face of conflict and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first protect its history.