🔗 Share this article Safeguarding Kyiv's Heritage: A City Reconstructing Its Foundations Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, appreciating its branch-like details. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with two impromptu pavement parties. It was also an expression of resistance against a neighboring state, she elaborated: “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of staying in our homeland. I could have left, starting anew to a foreign land. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way.” Preserving Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered strange at a moment when drone attacks regularly target the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Conflict, a Battle for History Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been working to save the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit similar art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a projection on the other. One much-loved house in the area features two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Dual Threats to History But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down protected buildings, unethical officials and a political leadership apathetic or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We lack genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s leadership was closely associated with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once protected older properties were now serving in the military or had been killed. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he argued. Destruction and Abandonment One egregious location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had committed to preserve its attractive brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a stern security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while stating they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, redesigning its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could allow for military vehicles. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his vital preservation work. There were initially 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said. “It was not external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character creeper-covered house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates 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 go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend 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 citizens not appreciate the past? “Unfortunately they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Action Some buildings are falling apart because of official neglect. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she admitted. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this past and aesthetic value.” In the face of war and development pressures, these volunteers continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its stones.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. The restoration team had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, appreciating its branch-like details. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with two impromptu pavement parties. It was also an expression of resistance against a neighboring state, she elaborated: “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of staying in our homeland. I could have left, starting anew to a foreign land. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.” “Our aim is to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way.” Preserving Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered strange at a moment when drone attacks regularly target the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Conflict, a Battle for History Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been working to save the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit similar art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a projection on the other. One much-loved house in the area features two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil. Dual Threats to History But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down protected buildings, unethical officials and a political leadership apathetic or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another difficulty. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We lack genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s leadership was closely associated with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once protected older properties were now serving in the military or had been killed. The protracted conflict meant that the entire society was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he argued. Destruction and Abandonment One egregious location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had committed to preserve its attractive brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a stern security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while stating they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, redesigning its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could allow for military vehicles. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his vital preservation work. There were initially 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said. “It was not external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character creeper-covered house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates 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 go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend 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 citizens not appreciate the past? “Unfortunately they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Action Some buildings are falling apart because of official neglect. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; refuse lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she admitted. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this past and aesthetic value.” In the face of war and development pressures, these volunteers continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its stones.