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

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her freshly fitted front door. The restoration team had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peacock,” she commented, gazing at its branch-like features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with several lively pavement parties.

It was also an act of defiance towards a foreign power, she clarified: “We strive to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. We have no fear of remaining in our homeland. I could have left, moving away to Italy. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance shows our commitment to our homeland.”

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

Preserving Kyiv’s architectural heritage seems paradoxical at a period when drone attacks routinely fall the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each strike, workers board up blown-out windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings.

Among the Explosions, a Battle for History

Despite the violence, a collective of activists has been working to preserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was originally the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare today,” Danylenko said. The building was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity display analogous art nouveau characteristics, including an irregular shape – with a pointed turret on one side and a projection on the other. One beloved house in the area features two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.

Multiple Challenges to Legacy

But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who raze listed buildings, dishonest officials and a governing class apathetic or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate adds another burden.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We lack real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He claimed the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov added that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.

Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been killed. The ongoing conflict meant that the entire society was facing monetary strain, he added, including those in the legal system who mysteriously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see deterioration of our society and governing institutions,” he argued.

Destruction and Abandonment

One egregious example of destruction is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the 2022 invasion, heavy machinery razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new shopping and business centre, observed by a unfriendly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while asserting they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also caused immense damage on the capital, redesigning its primary street after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions.

Carrying the Torch

One of Kyiv’s most renowned defenders of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while fighting in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his important preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.

“It wasn’t foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character vine-clad house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and original-style 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 “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not cherish the past? “Unfortunately they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking persisted, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Resilience in Restoration

Some buildings are collapsing because of official neglect. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons nested among its broken windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we lose the battle,” she admitted. “This activity is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and beauty.”

In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one building at a time, stating that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first save its stones.