Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a whimsical nod to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a showy bird,” she commented, gazing at its twig-detailed details. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with two neighbourhood pavement parties.
It was also an act of opposition against a foreign power, she explained: “We are trying to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. We’re not afraid of remaining in Ukraine. I had the option to depart, relocating to another European nation. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our allegiance to our homeland.”
“We are trying to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way.”
Protecting Kyiv’s built legacy seems paradoxical at a moment when aerial assaults routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each attack, workers cover broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.
Among the Explosions, a Fight for History
In the midst of war, a group of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was initially the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.
“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce today,” Danylenko noted. The building was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by display comparable art nouveau features, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.
Several Threats to History
But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who demolish listed buildings, corrupt officials and a political leadership apathetic or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate imposes another challenge.
“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov added that the vision for the capital harks back to a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.
Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been killed. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see decline of our society and public institutions,” he remarked.
Demolition and Neglect
One glaring example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had pledged to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, excavators razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, monitored by a unfriendly security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while claiming they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also caused immense damage on the capital, redesigning its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions.
Upholding the Legacy
One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while fighting in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his crucial preservation work. There were initially 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s prosperous entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.
“It wasn’t aerial bombardments 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 added. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character creeper-covered house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.
“The war could continue for 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 cherish the past? “Sadly they are without 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 persisted, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added.
Hope in Restoration
Some buildings are crumbling because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “This activity is a coping mechanism for us. We are striving to save all this history and splendour.”
In the face of conflict and neglect, these volunteers continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first cherish its stones.
