Safeguarding the Capital's Heritage: A City Reconstructing Itself in the Shadow of War.

Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her freshly fitted front door. Volunteers had given the moniker its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a peacock,” she commented, admiring its branch-like ornamentation. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with several impromptu pavement parties.

It was also an act of defiance in the face of a neighboring state, she clarified: “Our aim is to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in our homeland. I could have left, moving away to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.”

“We are trying to live like ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way.”

Preserving Kyiv’s architectural heritage may appear unusual at a moment when drone attacks routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been dramatically stepped up. After each attack, workers seal shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings.

Amid the Explosions, a Fight for Identity

In the midst of war, a band of activists has been attempting to conserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was initially the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its facade is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.

“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko said. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby exhibit comparable art nouveau features, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area boasts two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.

Multiple Threats to Heritage

But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who raze protected buildings, unethical officials and a governing class indifferent or hostile to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate presents another difficulty.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing 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 comes straight out of a previous decade. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.

Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been fallen. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he argued.

Destruction and Neglect

One egregious demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the onset of major hostilities, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, watched by a stern security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also wrought immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could accommodate large-scale parades.

Upholding the Legacy

One of Kyiv’s most renowned champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s wealthy entrepreneurs. 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 continue for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful vine-clad 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 authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors.

“The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing 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 cherish the past? “Regrettably they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to move towards the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.

Resilience in Restoration

Some buildings are falling apart because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna pointed to 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. “Often we don’t win,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this past and aesthetic value.”

In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, believing that to preserve a city’s heart, you must first save its stones.