Preserving Kyiv's Heritage: An Urban Center Rebuilding Its Foundations in the Shadow of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a whimsical nod to its curved shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she remarked, appreciating its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who celebrated with two neighbourhood pavement parties.

It was also an demonstration of resistance towards a neighboring state, she elaborated: “We strive to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in Ukraine. I could have left, relocating to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.”

“Our aim is to live like normal people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the optimal way.”

Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy may appear strange at a moment when missile strikes regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been notably increased. After each strike, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to secure residential buildings.

Within the Conflict, a Battle for History

Amid the bombs, a collective of activists has been working to save the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was initially the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.

“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare nowadays,” Danylenko noted. The building was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby exhibit analogous art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.

Multiple Challenges to Heritage

But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unprincipled developers who raze listed buildings, unethical officials and a governing class apathetic or resistant to the city’s rich architectural history. The severe winter climate adds another difficulty.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We lack real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov stated that the plan for the capital harks back to a different time. 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 fallen. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he argued.

Destruction and Disregard

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 agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, excavators razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new retail and office development, monitored by a stern security guard.

Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers levelled old properties while claiming they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also caused immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate military vehicles.

Upholding the Legacy

One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was lost his life in 2022 while engaged in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his crucial preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s prosperous business magnates. Only 80 of their authentic doors survived, she said.

“It was not external attacks that eliminated them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique creeper-covered house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and original-style railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors.

“The war could last another 20 years. If we neglect 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 appreciate the past? “Sadly they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are trying as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from civilization,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added.

Therapy in Preservation

Some buildings are collapsing because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons nested among its shattered windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “Restoration is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this heritage and splendour.”

In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one door at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s identity, you must first protect its history.