As the war draws near, Lviv tries to protect its rich cultural heritage, thanks to which it was inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List. In this city in western Ukraine, less than 50 miles from the border with Poland, countless statues are now wrapped in foam, tarps and fireproof fabrics to protect them from possible attack.
From Neptune, who stands with three other sculptures inspired by Greek and Roman mythology in the Market Square, the central square of this city of 700,000 people, only a trident is still visible. A similar fate befell Amphitrite, Diana and Adonis.
Waiting for the government to do something
Across the city, an army of agents seeks to protect the statues with makeshift means. At the origins of this movement is Andrey Salyuk, director of the Society for the Protection of Monuments, which in normal times informs residents and authorities about the preservation of heritage.
“An art historian came to me to tell me that if there was a bombing, God bless us, we could lose the stained glass windows,” he admits in his office, where several Ukrainian flags and insignia of many battalions fighting in eastern Ukraine hang. the country. “We did not expect the government to do something, that someone would write an application for funding. I took out the money, we put together a team and bought materials,” he continues, adding that he was supported by wealthy donors.
Artifacts from the 14th century
Along with Andrei Salyuk, there are art restorers, but also construction entrepreneurs, good experts on construction sites. It was they who, for example, advised the materials that should be used to protect the stained glass windows of many churches in the city. Andrey Pochekva is one of such restorers. This 40-year-old oversees the installation of sandwich panels to protect the stained-glass windows of the Basilica-Assumption Cathedral, whose construction dates back to the late 14th century. “We are well aware that we are not able to protect them from a direct blow, but we try to protect them as much as possible from any minor damage,” he admits.
On one side of the cathedral, an imposing sculpture depicting the Holy Sepulcher is already shrouded in moss and protective films under the approving gaze of Lilia Onishchenko, head of the department for the protection of cultural heritage of the Lviv municipality. In an Armenian church, a recently restored wooden altar from the 14th century was dismantled and taken away for protection, “like in the First World War.” According to her, the museums of the city also sheltered their expositions.