Protecting the Capital's Architectural Legacy: A City Reconstructing Itself Under the Threat of War.

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, appreciating its tree limb-inspired features. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who commemorated the work with several lively pavement parties.

It was also an act of resistance in the face of a foreign power, she explained: “Our aim is to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of staying in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to another European nation. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our commitment to our homeland.”

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

Protecting Kyiv’s historic buildings seems unusual at a time when missile strikes frequently hit the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to save residential buildings.

Amid the Bombs, a Fight for Beauty

Despite the violence, a collective of activists has been attempting to save the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was first the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its exterior is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.

“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce nowadays,” Danylenko stated. The residence was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by display analogous art nouveau characteristics, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a turret on the other. One much-loved house in the area features two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.

Multiple Challenges to Heritage

But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze historically significant buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class apathetic or resistant to the city’s rich architectural history. The bitter winter climate presents another difficulty.

“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have real 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 bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor has refuted these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.

Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once protected older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing monetary strain, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and state bodies,” he argued.

Destruction and Abandonment

One glaring demolition site is in the historic 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. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 invasion, excavators razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane excavated 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 turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also inflicted immense damage on the capital, redesigning its central boulevard after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles.

Continuing the Work

One of Kyiv’s most notable defenders of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a contested area. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his important preservation work. There were initially 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors are still in existence, she said.

“It wasn’t external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful ivy-draped house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and period-correct railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors.

“The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left.”

The building’s tenant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not value the past? “Unfortunately they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still not yet close from such cultural awareness,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking remained, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added.

Therapy in Restoration

Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna showed a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons roosted among its smashed windows; refuse lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she acknowledged. “Preservation work is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this history and splendour.”

In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, arguing that to save a city’s soul, you must first protect its walls.