🔗 Share this article Preserving Kyiv's Heritage: A City Rebuilding Itself Amidst the Onslaught of Conflict. Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its curved shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she remarked, appreciating its branch-like details. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who celebrated with a couple of impromptu pavement parties. It was also an act of defiance in the face of a neighboring state, she explained: “We are trying to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way. We’re not afraid of staying in Ukraine. I could have left, starting anew to another European nation. Conversely, 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 shaping our life in the best possible way.” Protecting Kyiv’s built legacy seems strange at a period when drone attacks frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, aerial raids have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers cover broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Fight for History In the midst of war, a group of activists has been working to preserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was initially the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce in the present day,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit analogous art nouveau characteristics, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Several Dangers to Heritage But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze protected buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body indifferent or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another challenge. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s leadership was allied with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital comes straight out of a bygone era. The mayor has refuted these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see decline of our society and public institutions,” he contended. Loss and Disregard One glaring demolition site is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the onset of major hostilities, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, watched by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could allow for military vehicles. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most renowned advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was killed in 2022 while fighting in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his vital preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, she said. “It was not external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left.” The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not appreciate the past? “Unfortunately they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking persisted, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Therapy in Action Some buildings are falling apart because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “This activity is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one building at a time, stating that to rebuild a city’s heart, you must first save its walls.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had given the moniker its elegant transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its curved shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she remarked, appreciating its branch-like details. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who celebrated with a couple of impromptu pavement parties. It was also an act of defiance in the face of a neighboring state, she explained: “We are trying to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way. We’re not afraid of staying in Ukraine. I could have left, starting anew to another European nation. Conversely, 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 shaping our life in the best possible way.” Protecting Kyiv’s built legacy seems strange at a period when drone attacks frequently hit the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, aerial raids have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers cover broken windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to secure residential buildings. Within the Explosions, a Fight for History In the midst of war, a group of activists has been working to preserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was initially the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers. “They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce in the present day,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit analogous art nouveau characteristics, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure. Several Dangers to Heritage But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze protected buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body indifferent or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another challenge. “Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s leadership was allied with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital comes straight out of a bygone era. The mayor has refuted these claims, attributing them from political rivals. Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The lengthy conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see decline of our society and public institutions,” he contended. Loss and Disregard One glaring demolition site is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the onset of major hostilities, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, watched by a surly security guard. Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could allow for military vehicles. Carrying the Torch One of Kyiv’s most renowned advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was killed in 2022 while fighting in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his vital preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, she said. “It was not external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors. “The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left.” The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not appreciate the past? “Unfortunately they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to go to the west. But we are still a way off from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking persisted, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added. Therapy in Action Some buildings are falling apart because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “This activity is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and aesthetic value.” In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one building at a time, stating that to rebuild a city’s heart, you must first save its walls.