Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her freshly fitted front door. Local helpers had playfully nicknamed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its bowed shape. “I think it’s more of a peacock,” she stated, admiring its branch-like features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who marked the occasion with several lively pavement parties.
It was also an act of resistance in the face of a neighboring state, she clarified: “Our aim is to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. We have no fear of remaining in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to Italy. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our dedication 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.”
Safeguarding Kyiv’s architectural heritage seems strange at a moment when missile strikes frequently hit the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been notably increased. After each assault, workers seal shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings.
In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s crumbling mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was originally the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its facade is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.
“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce in the present day,” Danylenko stated. The mansion was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby exhibit analogous art nouveau characteristics, including an irregular shape – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One much-loved house in the area boasts two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.
But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who knock down historically significant buildings, dishonest officials and a political leadership unconcerned or opposed to the city’s rich architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents another difficulty.
“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We are missing real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was allied with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov added that the concept for the capital harks back to a different time. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.
Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once protected older properties were now serving in the military or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing economic hardship, he added, including judicial figures who mysteriously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see deterioration of our society and state bodies,” he remarked.
One egregious demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the full-scale invasion, diggers demolished it. Recently, a crane prepared foundations for a new commercial complex, watched by a surly security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while stating they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, redesigning its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could allow for official processions.
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 persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were initially 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful entrepreneurs. Only 80 of their original doors remain, she said.
“It wasn’t aerial bombardments that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she added. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered 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 crimson entrance and original-style railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors.
“The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left.”
The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many locals not value the past? “Sadly they lack education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still some distance away from such cultural awareness,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.
Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “Restoration is a form of healing for us. We are striving to save all this history and aesthetic value.”
In the face of conflict and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one building at a time, believing that to rebuild a city’s identity, you must first cherish its walls.