A passionate linguist and writer dedicated to helping others improve their communication through creative storytelling.
Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her newly installed front door. Local helpers had given the moniker its graceful transom window the “crescent roll”, a lighthearted tribute to its bowed shape. “In my opinion it’s more of a peacock,” she stated, appreciating its tree limb-inspired details. The restoration project at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was made possible by residents, who marked the occasion with a couple of neighbourhood pavement parties.
It was also an expression of resistance towards a neighboring state, she explained: “Our aim is to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about organizing our life in the most positive way. Fear does not drive us of staying in our country. I had the option to depart, relocating to Italy. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance represents our dedication to our homeland.”
“Our aim is to live like normal people regardless of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the most positive way.”
Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy could be considered paradoxical at a time when drone attacks regularly target the capital, causing death and destruction. Since the beginning of the current year, offensive operations have been dramatically stepped up. After each strike, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to secure residential buildings.
In the midst of war, a group of activists has been striving to preserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a distinctive style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the downtown Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was first the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and intricate camomile flowers.
“They are symbols of Kyiv. These properties are uncommon nowadays,” Danylenko said. The building was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings close by display analogous art nouveau features, including asymmetry – with a medieval spire on one side and a small tower on the other. One beloved house in the area boasts two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a imp.
But military aggression is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down listed buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class apathetic or resistant to the city’s profound architectural history. The bitter winter climate adds another challenge.
“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We are missing 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 harks back to a bygone era. The mayor rejects these claims, attributing them from political rivals.
Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once protected older properties were now serving in the military or had been fallen. The protracted conflict meant that everyone was facing financial problems, he added, including those in the legal system who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this persists the more we see decline of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked.
One glaring demolition site is in the historic Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who obtained the plot had pledged to preserve its charming brick facade. Shortly following the 2022 invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane dug foundations for a new commercial complex, watched by a unfriendly security guard.
Anatolii Pohorily, a heritage supporter, said there was faint chance for the remaining turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while asserting they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A 20th-century empire also inflicted immense damage on the capital, reconstructing its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could allow for official processions.
One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates 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 carrying on his crucial preservation work. There were originally 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s wealthy business magnates. Only 80 of their authentic doors are still in existence, she said.
“It was not foreign rockets that got rid of them. It was us,” she said with regret. “The war could continue for another 20 years. If we neglect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a full of character ivy-draped house built in 1910, which acts as the headquarters of her cultural organization and also serves as a film set and museum. The property has a new red door and authentic railings; inside is a period bathroom and antique mirrors.
“The war could last another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now nothing 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 appreciate the past? “Sadly they do not have education and taste. It’s all about business. We are attempting as a country to go to the west. But we are still some distance away from that standard,” he said. Previous ways of thinking persisted, 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 concealed behind a modern hospital. Its roof had caved in; pigeons roosted among its smashed windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Frequently we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “This activity is a form of healing for us. We are striving to save all this past and beauty.”
In the face of destruction and commercial interests, these citizens continue their work, one facade at a time, stating that to preserve a city’s soul, you must first cherish its history.
A passionate linguist and writer dedicated to helping others improve their communication through creative storytelling.