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 remarked, gazing at its tree limb-inspired ornamentation. The refurbishment initiative at one of Kyiv’s pre-World War I art nouveau houses was supported by residents, who marked the occasion with two lively pavement parties.
It was also an demonstration of defiance against a foreign power, she explained: “We strive to live like ordinary people in spite of the war. It’s about arranging our life in the optimal way. Fear does not drive us of staying in our country. The possibility to emigrate existed, 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 ordinary people regardless of the war. It’s about organizing our life in the best possible way.”
Preserving Kyiv’s built legacy seems strange at a time when drone attacks regularly target the capital, bringing death and destruction. Since the onset of the current year, bombing campaigns have been notably increased. After each strike, workers cover shattered windows with plywood and try, where possible, to secure residential buildings.
Despite the violence, a band of activists has been working to conserve the city’s decaying mansions, built in a playful style known as Ukrainian modernism. Danylenko’s house is in the central Shevchenkivskyi district. It was erected in 1906 and was first the home of a affluent fur dealer. Its outer walls is adorned with horse chestnut leaves and fine camomile flowers.
“These structures stand as symbols of Kyiv. These properties are increasingly scarce nowadays,” Danylenko stated. The building was designed by an architect of Austrian-German origin. Several other buildings in the vicinity exhibit similar art nouveau characteristics, including an irregular shape – with a medieval spire on one side and a turret on the other. One much-loved house in the area boasts two sullen white stucco cats, as well as owls, masks and a devil.
But external attacks is only one threat. Preservation campaigners say they face unscrupulous developers who knock down listed buildings, unethical officials and a governing class apathetic or hostile to the city’s profound architectural history. The harsh winter climate presents another challenge.
“Kyiv is a city where wealth dictates. We lack substantive political will to save our heritage,” said Dmytro Perov, an activist. He alleged the city’s leadership was friends with many of the developers who destroy important houses. Perov stated that the vision for the capital comes straight out of a different time. The mayor rejects these claims, attributing them from political rivals.
Perov said many of the community-oriented activists who once defended older properties were now engaged in combat or had been fallen. The ongoing conflict meant that all citizens was facing monetary strain, he added, including those in the legal system who mysteriously ruled in favour of questionable new-build schemes. “The longer this continues the more we see degradation of our society and governing institutions,” he remarked.
One notorious example of destruction is in the riverside Podil neighbourhood. The street was the site of classical 19th-century houses. A developer who purchased the plot had pledged to preserve its picturesque brick facade. In the immediate aftermath of the full-scale invasion, diggers tore it down. Recently, a crane prepared 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 turquoise-painted houses on the site. Sometimes developers demolished old properties while stating they were doing “historical excavation”, he said. A previous regime also inflicted immense damage on the capital, redesigning its central boulevard after the second world war so it could accommodate official processions.
One of Kyiv’s most notable defenders of historic buildings, a heritage expert, was killed in 2022 while engaged in a eastern city. His colleague Nelli Chudna said she and other volunteers were carrying on his vital preservation work. There were originally 3,500 masonry mansions in Kyiv, many erected for the city’s wealthy business magnates. Only 80 of their period doors remain, she said.
“It was not aerial bombardments that destroyed them. It was us,” she admitted sadly. “The war could last another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now not a thing will be left,” she emphasized. Chudna recently helped to restore a unique ivy-draped house built in 1910, which functions as the headquarters of her cultural organization and operates as a film set and museum. The property has a new red door and authentic railings; inside is a vintage sanitary facility and antique mirrors.
“The war could continue for another 20 years. If we don’t defend architecture now nothing will be left.”
The building’s resident, artist Yurii Pikul, described his home as “incredibly atmospheric and a little bit cold”. Why do many residents not value 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. Previous ways of thinking lingered, with people reluctant to take personal responsibility for their architectural setting, he added.
Some buildings are collapsing because of institutional abandonment. Chudna indicated a once-magical villa tucked away behind a modern hospital. Its roof had collapsed; pigeons roosted among its broken windows; debris lay under a storybook tower. “Many times we are unsuccessful,” she admitted. “Preservation work is therapy for us. We are striving to save all this past and aesthetic value.”
In the face of war and development pressures, these volunteers continue their work, one door at a time, arguing that to rebuild a city’s identity, you must first protect its history.
Kaelen Vance is a seasoned esports journalist and former competitive gamer, passionate about sharing strategies and industry trends.