The roof is gone, the charred skeleton of the theatre’s internal structure laid bare to the skies, one wall subsiding into a pile of rubble and dust on the pavement.
Clearly visible from the air, the word “дети” is written in huge white letters in front of the theatre: the Russian word for “children”.
The message did not deter Russian aircraft from dropping two 500kg bombs on to the hundreds of civilians who where sheltering there, according to an investigation by Amnesty International, which concluded the bombing of the Donetsk Academic Regional Drama Theatre of Mariupol on March 16th last year was “a clear war crime”.
Russia has denied responsibility.
Hungarian leader Viktor Orban gives insight to his ‘lonely’ worldview
The Irish Times view on Trump and Ukraine: Change of course is ahead
US pledges to send as much aid as possible to Ukraine before Trump becomes president
Ukraine facing ‘50,000 Russian troops’ in border area as North Korea ratifies defence pact with Moscow
The aftermath is captured in a new update of Google Maps, which reveals one moment in the destruction of the city of almost half a million citizens, captured as a satellite passed over Ukraine last year. The bombed-out theatre can be seen side-by-side with photographs and reviews provided by users before the invasion, inadvertently creating a heartbreaking contrast.
Go into “Street View” and you are transported to the square as it was pre-war. Posters advertise theatre shows. Families push prams and chat on benches around a dancing central fountain.
A month before the invasion, a user called Olga wrote that it was her favourite place in Mariupol, sharing photographs of the holiday lights that adorned the theatre’s facade that winter. “Beautiful Christmas decorations. Skating rink for the new year holidays,” she wrote, awarding the place five stars. “Be sure to check it out.”
Several reviewers noted its popularity as a place to bring kids. “I like to walk there in the morning and in the evening,” wrote Miroslav last January. “One of the best places in the city.”
This unintentionally gut-wrenching juxtaposition – snapshots of life as it was before, satellite evidence of the burnt-out ruins and blackened craters it all became – is repeated on Google Maps across the city and wider Ukraine.
Any user can click at random to see what became of small cafes, boutique clothes shops, schools, libraries, homes.
A short walk away from the theatre stands a museum dedicated to the Mariupol-born landscape artist Arkhip Kuindzhi, finally built in 2010 after a long campaign for a venue dedicated to the painter.
[ The enemy within? Ukraine’s Moscow-affiliated Orthodox Church faces scrutinyOpens in new window ]
Its roof has been blown through, the satellite image shows. It contained 650 paintings and 150 sculptures, according to Mariupol’s tourism website. Russian newspaper Izvestia reported that “almost 95 per cent” of its exhibits had burned.
Meanwhile, the building that held La Rochelle Patisserie – highly recommended for torte – is now a shell.
“You can see they put their soul into this,” Ludmila wrote of the place in 2019.
“Thanks to the girls for the cosy atmosphere,” wrote Dmitry, with a photograph of a customer leaning on a counter of elaborate cakes.
For Ukrainians, it’s a painful record of everything that has been lost.
On social media, journalist Maxim Eristavi admitted going down “a very dark wormhole of staring at the devastation and clicking on pins of places that used to be”.
Freelancer Jane Lytvynenko spotted that the satellite had captured hundreds of people queuing outside a former supermarket on the western edge of Mariupol that became a distribution point for humanitarian aid during the Russian army’s 80-day siege.
Later, Russians organised an “open-air morgue” nearby, she recalled. “Those looking for their loved ones would go from body to body, trying to find them.”
Ukraine estimates that 25,000 civilians were killed in the siege, which the Red Cross described as “apocalyptic”. About 90 per cent of Mariupol’s multistorey residential buildings were destroyed or damaged, and roughly 60 per cent of detached homes, according to estimates by the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights. About 350,000 people fled.
Not long after seizing control, Russian authorities announced plans to rebuild the city. A reconstruction plan that leaked in October 2022 bullishly predicted its population would recover by the end of the decade.
Ukrainian street names began to be replaced – the “Avenue of Peace” became “Lenin Avenue” – and the big Mariupol sign at the entrance of the city was repainted in the colours of the Russian flag. Last month, Russian state media published images of president Vladimir Putin visiting the city and reviewing reconstruction plans.
In December, an aide to Mariupol’s exiled Ukrainian mayor published a video showing scaffolding surrounding the remains of the bombed theatre, and a digger pulling down one of its walls.
Russian authorities were seeking to destroy the “physical evidence” of the crime, Petro Andryushchenko wrote. “They plan to build on the bones of the people of Mariupol.”