🔗 Share this article Protecting the Capital's Heritage: An Urban Center Rebuilding Its Foundations Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she commented, gazing at its branch-like details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with several neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an act of opposition towards an invading force, she elaborated: “Our aim is to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of staying in Ukraine. I could have left, moving away to a foreign land. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s built legacy may appear paradoxical at a time when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers seal broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Among the Conflict, a Battle for Identity In the midst of war, a band of activists has been striving to save 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 built in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit similar art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Dual Dangers to Heritage But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body indifferent or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another burden. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was allied with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the concept for the capital comes straight out of a bygone era. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that all citizens was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and public institutions,” he contended. Demolition and Abandonment One notorious location of loss is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a surly 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 “scientific study”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their original doors are still in existence, she said. “It wasn’t aerial bombardments that destroyed them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking persisted, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Action Some buildings are crumbling because of institutional abandonment. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; refuse lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “This activity is a coping mechanism for us. We are attempting to save all this past and beauty.” In the face of destruction and neglect, these activists continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to rebuild a city’s heart, you must first cherish its history.
Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she commented, gazing at its branch-like details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with several neighbourhood pavement parties. It was also an act of opposition towards an invading force, she elaborated: “Our aim is to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of staying in Ukraine. I could have left, moving away to a foreign land. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.” “We are trying to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way.” Safeguarding Kyiv’s built legacy may appear paradoxical at a time when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers seal broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings. Among the Conflict, a Battle for Identity In the midst of war, a band of activists has been striving to save 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 built in 1906 and was originally the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers. “These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko noted. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit similar art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Dual Dangers to Heritage But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body indifferent or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another burden. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was allied with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the concept for the capital comes straight out of a bygone era. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate from political rivals. Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that all citizens was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and public institutions,” he contended. Demolition and Abandonment One notorious location of loss is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new retail and office development, watched by a surly 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 “scientific study”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their original doors are still in existence, she said. “It wasn’t aerial bombardments that destroyed them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left.” The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking persisted, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added. Hope in Action Some buildings are crumbling because of institutional abandonment. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; refuse lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “This activity is a coping mechanism for us. We are attempting to save all this past and beauty.” In the face of destruction and neglect, these activists continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to rebuild a city’s heart, you must first cherish its history.