Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. Volunteers had playfully nicknamed its ornate transom window the “croissant”, a lighthearted tribute to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she stated, appreciating its tree limb-inspired features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who celebrated with two neighbourhood pavement parties.
It was also an act of defiance in the face of a neighboring state, she clarified: “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way. We have no fear of remaining in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to another European nation. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance represents our commitment to our homeland.”
“We are trying to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way.”
Protecting Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered strange at a moment when missile strikes routinely fall the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, aerial raids have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers seal broken windows with plywood and try, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.
Amid the Explosions, a Campaign for Identity
In the midst of war, a group of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was first the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its exterior is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.
“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon today,” Danylenko said. The building was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit comparable art nouveau elements, including asymmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.
Several Challenges to History
But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down listed buildings, corrupt officials and a administrative body indifferent or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The bitter winter climate presents another challenge.
“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have substantive 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 bulldoze important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital harks back to a bygone era. The mayor has refuted these claims, attributing them from political rivals.
Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been killed. The ongoing conflict meant that the entire society was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who inexplicably ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see degradation of our society and public institutions,” he argued.
Demolition and Disregard
One notorious demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had pledged to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, monitored by a surly security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, redesigning its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could allow for large-scale parades.
Continuing the Work
One of Kyiv’s most renowned advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was killed in 2022 while fighting in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their original doors are still in existence, she said.
“It wasn’t aerial bombardments that destroyed them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character vine-clad house built in 1910, which serves as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new red door and original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility 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 appreciate the past? “Regrettably they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still not yet close from that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.
Resilience in Action
Some buildings are crumbling because of official neglect. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; debris lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we don’t win,” she conceded. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are trying to save all this history and aesthetic value.”
In the face of conflict and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one facade at a time, believing that to preserve a city’s heart, you must first cherish its walls.
