Protecting the Capital's Heritage: A City Reconstructing Its Foundations in the Shadow of War.

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its curved shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, appreciating its twig-detailed features. The refurbishment initiative 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 defiance against a neighboring state, she explained: “Our aim is to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, relocating to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our commitment to our homeland.”

“Our aim is to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way.”

Preserving Kyiv’s architectural heritage could be considered strange at a period when drone attacks regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, offensive operations have been dramatically stepped up. After each strike, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.

Amid the Conflict, a Battle for Beauty

Despite the violence, a band of activists has been striving to save the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko said. The building was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by showcase comparable art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One popular house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.

Dual Challenges to History

But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body indifferent or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another difficulty.

“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We are missing real 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 stated that the concept for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals.

Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once protected older properties were now engaged in combat or had been fallen. The lengthy conflict meant that everyone was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked.

Destruction and Neglect

One egregious example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had agreed to preserve its attractive brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new shopping and business centre, observed by a surly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also caused immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions.

Continuing the Work

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

“It wasn’t external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered house built in 1910, which serves 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 continue 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 “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not cherish the past? “Regrettably they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to move towards the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking remained, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added.

Therapy in Preservation

Some buildings are falling apart because of official neglect. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons roosted among its smashed windows; refuse lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she conceded. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this history and aesthetic value.”

In the face of war and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one facade at a time, believing that to preserve a city’s identity, you must first save its walls.