Preserving the Capital's Heritage: A City Rebuilding Itself in the Shadow of Conflict.

Lesia Danylenko proudly presented her newly installed front door. The restoration team had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a playful reference to its arched shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a showy bird,” she commented, appreciating its branch-like features. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was funded through residents, who commemorated the work with several neighbourhood pavement parties.

It was also an expression of defiance towards a neighboring state, she explained: “We are trying to live like ordinary people despite the war. It’s about shaping our life in the optimal way. We have no fear of staying in Ukraine. I could have left, moving away to Italy. 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.”

Preserving Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered unusual at a moment when aerial assaults routinely fall the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, aerial raids have been notably increased. After each strike, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to save residential buildings.

Among the Bombs, a Campaign for Beauty

In the midst of war, a band 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 historic Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was initially the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its facade is decorated with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.

“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon nowadays,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by a designer of Central European origin. Several other buildings close by showcase similar art nouveau characteristics, including a lack of symmetry – with a gothic tower on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area displays two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.

Dual Threats to Heritage

But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who raze listed buildings, dishonest officials and a administrative body unconcerned or resistant to the city’s rich architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents another difficulty.

“Kyiv is a city where money wins. We don’t have genuine political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He asserted the city’s leadership was allied with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov added that the concept for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals.

Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once protected older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been killed. The lengthy conflict meant that the entire society was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see degradation of our society and public institutions,” he argued.

Loss and Neglect

One egregious example of destruction is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had agreed to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the full-scale invasion, diggers razed it to the ground. Recently, a crane excavated foundations for a new commercial complex, watched 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 demolished old properties while asserting they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A former political system also caused immense damage on the capital, redesigning its primary street after the second world war so it could accommodate military vehicles.

Upholding the Legacy

One of Kyiv’s most prominent advocates of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was fell in 2022 while serving in the frontline. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were continuing his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s successful business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.

“It was not foreign rockets that eliminated them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful vine-clad house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new crimson entrance and period-correct railings; inside is a historic washroom and antique mirrors.

“The war could go on for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing 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? “Regrettably they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to integrate with the west. But we are still a way off from such cultural awareness,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.

Resilience in Restoration

Some buildings are collapsing because of official neglect. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons roosted among its broken windows; refuse lay under a storybook tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is a form of healing for us. We are trying to save all this past and beauty.”

In the face of conflict and neglect, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, believing that to save a city’s soul, you must first protect its stones.