Lesia Danylenko showed off with satisfaction her recently completed front door. Local helpers had affectionately dubbed its graceful transom window the “pastry”, a lighthearted tribute to its curved shape. “I think it’s more of a showy bird,” she remarked, gazing at its branch-like details. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s early 20th-century art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with several impromptu pavement parties.
It was also an demonstration of opposition towards an invading force, she clarified: “We are trying to live like everyday people regardless of the war. It’s about shaping our life in the best possible way. Fear does not drive us of staying in our country. I could have left, starting anew to another European nation. On the contrary, I’m here. The new entrance symbolizes our commitment to our homeland.”
“Our aim is to live like everyday people despite the war. It’s about arranging our life in the best possible way.”
Safeguarding Kyiv’s historic buildings could be considered strange at a period when missile strikes regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the start of the current year, aerial raids have been dramatically stepped up. After each assault, workers board up shattered windows with plywood and endeavor, where possible, to salvage residential buildings.
Despite the violence, a group of activists has been striving to save the city’s deteriorating mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was constructed in 1906 and was initially the home of a prosperous fur dealer. Its exterior is embellished with horse chestnut leaves and delicate camomile flowers.
“These buildings represent symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce nowadays,” Danylenko stated. The mansion was designed by a designer of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings nearby display similar art nouveau features, including a lack of symmetry – with a pointed turret on one side and a projection on the other. One much-loved house in the area boasts two forlorn white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.
But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face profit-driven developers who knock down historically significant buildings, corrupt officials and a governing class unconcerned or opposed to the city’s vast architectural history. The harsh winter climate adds another challenge.
“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We lack real political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s leadership was allied with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov further alleged that the vision for the capital is reminiscent of a bygone era. The mayor rejects these claims, saying they originate 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 killed. The protracted conflict meant that all citizens was facing financial problems, he added, including judicial figures who curiously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see deterioration of our society and state bodies,” he contended.
One egregious example of destruction is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was home to classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had committed to preserve its charming brick facade. A day after the onset of major hostilities, heavy machinery demolished it. Recently, a crane prepared 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 turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers destroyed old properties while claiming they were doing “scientific study”, he said. A 20th-century empire also caused immense damage on the capital, rebuilding its main thoroughfare after the second world war so it could facilitate military vehicles.
One of Kyiv’s most notable advocates of historic buildings, a tour guide and blogger, was fell in 2022 while serving in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were initially 3,500 brick-built mansions in Kyiv, many built for the city’s successful industrialists. Only 80 of their period doors survived, she said.
“It wasn’t external attacks that got rid of them. It was us,” she lamented. “The war could go on for another 20 years. If we fail to protect architecture now not a thing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique vine-clad 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 crimson entrance and original-style railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.
“The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left.”
The building’s occupant, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric 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 striving as a country to move towards the west. But we are still a way off from civilization,” he said. Soviet-era ways of thinking lingered, with people unwilling to take personal responsibility for their urban environment, he added.
Some buildings are falling apart because of bureaucratic indifference. Chudna showed a once-magical villa hidden behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons made their home among its broken windows; rubbish lay under a fairytale tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she conceded. “This activity is therapy for us. We are attempting to save all this history and splendour.”
In the face of conflict and commercial interests, these activists continue their work, one building at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s soul, you must first cherish its walls.
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