Protecting Kyiv's Architectural Legacy: An Urban Center Rebuilding Itself in the Shadow of War.

Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her recently completed front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its elegant transom window the “croissant”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a showy bird,” she stated, appreciating its twig-detailed features. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with two neighbourhood pavement parties.

It was also an act of opposition in the face of a neighboring state, she clarified: “Our aim is to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way. We have no fear of staying in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, relocating to another European nation. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance shows our commitment to our homeland.”

“We are trying to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way.”

Protecting Kyiv’s built legacy seems paradoxical at a time when aerial assaults regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, bombing campaigns have been notably increased. After each strike, workers seal shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to save residential buildings.

Within the Bombs, a Battle for Identity

Despite the violence, a band of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a whimsical 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 prosperous fur dealer. Its outer walls is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare nowadays,” Danylenko stated. The mansion was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby display comparable art nouveau elements, including a lack of symmetry – 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.

Dual Dangers to Legacy

But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who raze listed buildings, unethical officials and a governing class unconcerned or hostile to the city’s rich architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents another challenge.

“Kyiv is a city where capital prevails. We are missing genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov added that the plan for the capital harks back to a previous decade. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate from political rivals.

Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once protected older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that all citizens 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 continues the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he argued.

Destruction and Abandonment

One glaring demolition site is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had pledged to preserve its picturesque brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, excavators demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new shopping and business centre, observed by a surly security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was not much hope for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while asserting they were doing “archaeological research”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles.

Upholding the Legacy

One of Kyiv’s most prominent champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life 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 at one time 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many constructed for the city’s wealthy industrialists. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said.

“It wasn’t external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she emphasized. 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 red door and original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.

“The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing will be left.”

The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not appreciate the past? “Regrettably they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to move towards the west. But we are still some distance away from such cultural awareness,” he said. Previous ways of thinking persisted, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.

Resilience in Preservation

Some buildings are crumbling because of institutional abandonment. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons nested among its broken windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Often we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “Restoration is a form of healing for us. We are attempting to save all this past and aesthetic value.”

In the face of conflict and commercial interests, these volunteers continue their work, one facade at a time, believing that to rebuild a city’s heart, you must first protect its stones.