Elara is a seasoned software engineer and tech writer, passionate about demystifying complex technologies and sharing actionable advice.
Lesia Danylenko beamed with pride as she displayed her freshly fitted front door. The restoration team had playfully nicknamed its ornate transom window the “pastry”, a playful reference to its curved shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peafowl,” she stated, gazing at its branch-like features. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who celebrated with two lively pavement parties.
It was also an demonstration of defiance in the face of an invading force, she elaborated: “We are trying to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. We’re not afraid of living in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, starting anew to another European nation. Instead, I’m here. The new entrance shows our dedication to our homeland.”
“Our aim is to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way.”
Protecting Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered strange at a period when drone attacks routinely fall the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each attack, workers seal shattered windows with plywood and attempt, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.
Despite the violence, a band of activists has been working to save the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was built in 1906 and was originally the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its facade is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.
“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are quite rare nowadays,” Danylenko said. The mansion was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by exhibit comparable art nouveau elements, including asymmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a projection on the other. One popular house in the area boasts two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.
But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who demolish historically significant buildings, unethical officials and a governing class unconcerned or hostile to the city’s vast architectural history. The severe winter climate presents another burden.
“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We don’t have real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s mayor was friends with many of the developers who flatten important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept 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 protected older properties were now fighting on the frontline or had been lost. The ongoing conflict meant that everyone was facing financial problems, he added, including those in the legal system who inexplicably ruled in favour of dubious new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see deterioration of our society and public institutions,” he argued.
One egregious location of loss is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was lined with classical 19th-century houses. A developer who acquired the plot had agreed to preserve its picturesque brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the full-scale invasion, diggers demolished it. 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 not much hope for the remaining coloured houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could facilitate official processions.
One of Kyiv’s most notable champions of historic buildings, a cultural activist, was fell in 2022 while fighting in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were persevering in his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.
“It wasn’t foreign rockets that destroyed them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now nothing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique ivy-draped 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 original-style railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors.
“The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now little will be left.”
The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “very cool and a little bit cold”. Why do many citizens not appreciate the past? “Unfortunately 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 civilization,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking persisted, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.
Some buildings are crumbling because of official neglect. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons made their home among its shattered windows; debris lay under a whimsical tower. “Often we lose the battle,” she conceded. “Restoration is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this history and splendour.”
In the face of conflict and development pressures, these activists continue their work, one building at a time, believing that to rebuild a city’s identity, you must first save its stones.
Elara is a seasoned software engineer and tech writer, passionate about demystifying complex technologies and sharing actionable advice.