
Ukrainian Modernism
Fuel Publishing
Hardcover, 240 pages, £26.95
Ukraine’s 20th-century architectural legacy is complex, layered, and endlessly fraught. Featuring structures weathered in turn by war, politics, and time, Ukrainian Modernism, new from Fuel Publishing, captures the country’s architectural infrastructure at a particularly fragile historical moment. The result is a striking document of buildings that are conceptually complex, surprisingly varied, and, despite everything, resilient in the face of insurmountable forces.

While we’ve previously covered books on Ukrainian architecture (see here and here), this new volume is the first published post-2022, giving it the additional weight of a newly tragic era. Ukraine’s modernist architecture has, even in the best of times, faced an uphill battle against seemingly insurmountable forces. Neglect, redevelopment pressure from deep-pocketed interests, and the cultural weight of de-Sovietization have all conspired to stifle meaningful discussions and sustainable preservation efforts. Structures from the Soviet era are frequently framed as outside of Ukraine’s national heritage, fit only to be built over or razed; powerful property owners (Ukraine, like Russia, is an oligarch’s playground) make preservation yet more difficult.
Since February 2022, missile attacks have destroyed numerous buildings, while subsequent occupations have meant even those that remained standing (particularly in Mariupol) were later demolished by occupying forces. Meanwhile, beyond the outright destruction of war and occupation, the slow-motion erosions of time and neglect have become more acute as Ukraine’s resources are pulled toward survival and defense. Soloviov’s photographs function as a record of these buildings in their still-extant forms, capturing their images in still-resplendent form, and only revealing their sometimes harrowing fates in the captions.

Soloviov’s photos have a deft touch, and he often shoots from unexpected angles that favor human perspectives over monumentality. In doing so, he reveals an unexpected whimsy and cosmic beauty of structures that are too often reduced to being coldly Brutalist. Interiors feature vivid mosaics and murals, sculptural staircases, and some truly incredible stained glass and light fixtures, while even exteriors marred by time or warfare possess a quiet, weathered dignity.

One of the book’s most compelling themes, introduced in the opening essay and further explored in the photos, is the uniquely layered qualities of Ukraine’s architectural history. Early 20th century works in Art Nouveau and other international styles were buried under cladding and concrete to align with Communist ideals (though this ironically would, in some cases, actually help preserve them for future eras, such as at Kyiv Crematorium, where activists have begun removing layers to reveal hidden sculptural work). Today, the roles are reversed: Soviet-era buildings and public artworks are being demolished or covered as part of an accelerating drive to reshape national identity. Soloviov tells the story of a woman praising the coverup of a Soviet mural of the red-scarved Young Pioneers, to which he responds with his own family’s history: “Even my mother was a Pioneer – do I need to burn pictures of her in a red scarf, too?”

Not all buildings age equally, and survivability itself becomes a filter through which heritage is defined. Massive Stalinist structures, built with scale and solidity, have outlasted many of the lighter, more experimental buildings from later decades, which used diverse materials like glass, wood, and plastic and were less consistently maintained. For better or worse it is endurance, rather than cultural or artistic merit, that as much as anything determines which structures are remembered.

Ukrainian Modernism is less a salvo or argument than a loving document of Soloviov’s homeland, in which he serves as witness. As more and more physical relics of the 20th century disappear, whether through conflict, redevelopment, or neglect, such archival approaches are vital, offering a vision of an architectural legacy that is both rooted in history and engaged with the present.