Safeguarding the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Itself in the Shadow of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her newly installed front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its graceful transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peacock,” she remarked, appreciating its tree limb-inspired details. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who commemorated the work with a couple of lively pavement parties.

It was also an demonstration of defiance in the face of a neighboring state, she explained: “Our aim is to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of living in our country. I could have left, moving away to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.”

“Our aim is to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way.”

Safeguarding Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered paradoxical at a moment when aerial assaults regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers seal shattered windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to secure residential buildings.

Within the Conflict, a Battle for Identity

Amid the bombs, a group of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit comparable art nouveau features, including a lack of symmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area displays two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.

Several Threats to Heritage

But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who raze historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a political leadership apathetic or resistant to the city’s rich architectural history. The severe winter climate adds another challenge.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the plan for the capital harks back to a bygone era. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.

Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been fallen. The lengthy conflict meant that everyone was facing economic hardship, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he contended.

Loss and Neglect

One glaring example of destruction is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its attractive brick facade. Shortly following the full-scale invasion, heavy machinery demolished it. 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 faint chance for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also caused immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could allow for official processions.

Upholding the Legacy

One of Kyiv’s most prominent defenders of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was lost his life in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were initially 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors survived, she said.

“It was not external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend 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 functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and authentic railings; inside is a period bathroom 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 resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special 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 trying as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Therapy in Preservation

Some buildings are crumbling because of official neglect. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its smashed windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is a coping mechanism for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and beauty.”

In the face of war and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s identity, you must first save its walls.