The building was constructed in 1898 as a printing house, which was rented by S.P. Yakovlev immediately after construction. At the time, it was one of the largest printing. The project has the potential to become a mediator connecting the urban space around the station and the recreational area of the embankment. The building is an important historical monument and can serve as a link between old and new development. The project will have an impact on the city/region, including the use of public spaces and the expected number of jobs/organizations.
Enterprises in the city with more than 15 speed-printing machines that were destroyed during the Civil War. At that time, the printing house served the railways in a dilapidated state. Between 1924 and 1934, the building was restored and modernized: a third floor and an attic space were added, and a freight elevator was installed. In the postwar years, technical and storage facilities were added, creating a closed courtyard space. In Soviet times, the 4th printing house of the Ministry of Railways worked here. In 1980, the building received a security number and was recognized as an architectural monument of local importance.
From 2010 to 2020, the building was in a state of disrepair. In 2021, a new owner came along and decided to revitalize the building. Alter Development began working on the project in 2021, planning restoration and revitalization into a cultural center. In 2022, the project was frozen due to a full-scale invasion and resumed in 2023.
Eclectic "brick" style. The decor is characterized by unpainted brick and Gothic elements. There are also elements of Industrial Art Nouveau, and red-brick masonry is characteristic of the industrial Kharkiv Art Nouveau style. The style is also described as red-brick neo-Gothic.
The mission of the managing NGO "Ukrainian Tea Party" is to support and develop cultural projects in Kharkiv, with the vision of making Kharkiv an outpost of Ukrainian culture. It is planned to develop the ecosystem of the district, unite the community, and actualize the historical value of the territory.
Archival drawings, letters from residents, and plans from the 1930s - how we integrate historical sources into modern solutions.
Searching for traces: what we find
Before we take any action on site, we begin with historical research — often months in advance. We dive into state archives, museum collections, architectural bureaus, private family holdings, and even old newspapers.
Among the materials we typically uncover:
At Alter, we don’t romanticize the past, but we respect it. We treat historical materials as guidelines for intelligent and responsible design — not as limitations.
We apply this information in several ways:
In one of our recent projects, we discovered a complete set of hand-drawn floorplans from 1937, hidden in a regional archive. The plans included unique ventilation shafts and curved balcony forms that had been completely lost in a post-war rebuild.
Using these, we were able to:
Why this approach matters
Involving historical context in renovation is not just ethical — it’s strategic:
It adds long-term value by preserving authenticity
It builds public trust, especially in communities that often feel displaced by new development
It aligns with ESG principles: cultural responsibility is part of social sustainability
It allows us to differentiate our work in a crowded real estate market
From archive to future
What we find in archives isn’t just technical. It’s emotional, layered, and often unexpected.
A note scribbled on a blueprint, a signature on a beam, a name carved into a stairwell — all of these become clues in our process of restorative innovation.
At Alter Development, we believe that the best future for cities begins by listening carefully to their past — and rebuilding not just structures, but continuity.
