Safeguarding the Capital's Heritage: A City Reconstructing Its Foundations Under the Threat of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her newly installed front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “pastry”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, gazing at its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who celebrated with a couple of lively pavement parties.

It was also an expression of resistance against a neighboring state, she elaborated: “Our aim is to live like everyday people in spite of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way. We’re not afraid of remaining in our homeland. I had the option to depart, starting anew to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance shows our dedication to our homeland.”

“We are trying to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way.”

Safeguarding Kyiv’s historic buildings may appear unusual at a time when aerial assaults regularly target the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, bombing campaigns have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers cover blown-out windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.

Within the Bombs, a Battle for Identity

In the midst of war, a group of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was initially the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare nowadays,” Danylenko stated. The residence was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby showcase similar art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a small tower on the other. One popular house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.

Several Dangers to Legacy

But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who demolish historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body unconcerned or opposed to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate imposes another difficulty.

“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We don’t have real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s leadership was allied with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov added that the plan for the capital is reminiscent of a different time. The mayor denies these claims, attributing them from political rivals.

Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once protected older properties were now serving in the military or had been lost. The protracted conflict meant that all citizens was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he remarked.

Loss and Neglect

One glaring demolition site is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had pledged to preserve its picturesque brick facade. A day after the 2022 invasion, diggers razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new shopping and business centre, watched by a stern security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also wrought immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while serving in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s prosperous industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors survived, she said.

“It wasn’t external attacks that destroyed them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now little will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful creeper-covered 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 red door 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 nothing will be left.”

The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not value the past? “Sadly they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to move towards the west. But we are still a way off from that standard,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Hope in Restoration

Some buildings are crumbling because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; debris lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we lose the battle,” she admitted. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this history and beauty.”

In the face of conflict and neglect, these volunteers continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first cherish its stones.