Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her recently completed front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its elegant transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its bowed shape. “Personally, I believe it’s more of a peacock,” she commented, appreciating its tree limb-inspired details. The renovation effort at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who commemorated the work with a couple of lively pavement parties.
It was also an expression of defiance in the face of an invading force, she explained: “We strive to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way. We’re not afraid of remaining in our homeland. The possibility to emigrate existed, relocating to a foreign land. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.”
“We strive to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the most positive way.”
Safeguarding Kyiv’s historic buildings may appear unusual at a period 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 strike, workers seal blown-out windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings.
In the midst of war, a collective of activists has been striving to save 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 intricate camomile flowers.
“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon in the present day,” Danylenko stated. The building was designed by an architect of Central European origin. Several other buildings nearby exhibit comparable art nouveau characteristics, including asymmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area features two unhappy white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.
But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down listed buildings, corrupt officials and a political leadership indifferent or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The bitter winter climate imposes another challenge.
“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We are missing substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s mayor was closely associated with many of the developers who bulldoze important houses. Perov stated that the plan for the capital comes straight out of a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals.
Perov said many of the public-spirited activists who once championed older properties were now engaged in combat or had been lost. The protracted conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see degradation of our society and state bodies,” he remarked.
One notorious location of loss is in the waterside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the onset of major hostilities, diggers demolished it. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, watched by a surly security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was little optimism for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while stating they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its primary street after the second world war so it could allow for large-scale parades.
One of Kyiv’s most renowned champions of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was lost his life in 2022 while engaged in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his important preservation work. There were at one time 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.
“It was not aerial bombardments that eliminated them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now little will be left,” she emphasized. 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 doubles as a film set and museum. The property has a new vermilion portal and authentic railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.
“The war could go on for 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 citizens not cherish the past? “Regrettably they are without education and taste. It’s all about business. We are striving as a country to move towards the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Outdated ways of thinking remained, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added.
Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons roosted among its smashed windows; refuse lay under a storybook tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “Restoration is a coping mechanism for us. We are attempting to save all this past and splendour.”
In the face of war and neglect, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, believing that to rebuild a city’s heart, you must first protect its stones.