Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. Volunteers had affectionately dubbed its ornate transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its curved shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a showy bird,” she commented, gazing at its branch-like details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s turn-of-the-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who celebrated with two lively pavement parties.
It was also an demonstration of resistance towards a neighboring state, she elaborated: “We are trying to live like normal people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way. Fear does not drive us of remaining in Ukraine. The possibility to emigrate existed, moving away to a foreign land. Conversely, I’m here. The new entrance shows our allegiance to our homeland.”
“Our aim is to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way.”
Protecting Kyiv’s historic buildings seems strange at a time when missile strikes frequently hit the capital, resulting in death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, offensive operations have been significantly intensified. After each strike, workers seal blown-out windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to secure residential buildings.
Amid the bombs, a band of activists has been attempting to save the city’s decaying mansions, built in a whimsical style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was first the home of a wealthy fur dealer. Its outer walls is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.
“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce nowadays,” Danylenko said. The building was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by display comparable art nouveau features, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a projection on the other. One much-loved house in the area features two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a demonic figure.
But armed conflict is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who demolish listed buildings, unethical officials and a administrative body apathetic or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate presents another challenge.
“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. 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 destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the concept for the capital comes straight out of a previous decade. The mayor denies these claims, stating they come from political rivals.
Perov said many of the civically minded activists who once championed older properties were now serving in the military or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing monetary strain, he added, including judicial figures who inexplicably ruled in favour of suspect new-build schemes. “The longer this goes on the more we see decline of our society and public institutions,” he remarked.
One notorious location of loss is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, excavators tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new shopping and business centre, monitored by a surly security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining blue-green houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while asserting they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A former political system also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its central boulevard after the second world war so it could facilitate large-scale parades.
One of Kyiv’s most notable 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 vital preservation work. There were initially 3,500 stone mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their original doors remain, she said.
“It wasn’t foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she continued. Chudna recently helped to restore a characterful 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 authentic railings; inside is a historic washroom 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 “quite special and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not cherish the past? “Sadly they lack 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 civilization,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people hesitant to take personal responsibility for their built surroundings, he added.
Some buildings are collapsing because of official neglect. Chudna pointed to a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had fallen; pigeons roosted among its shattered windows; rubbish lay under a whimsical tower. “Frequently we lose the battle,” she acknowledged. “Restoration is a form of healing for us. We are striving to save all this history and splendour.”
In the face of war and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one building at a time, believing that to save a city’s identity, you must first save its history.
An avid explorer and travel writer with over a decade of experience in documenting remote destinations and outdoor adventures.