RVP 1875: A Working Woodworking Museum
About an hour from Iowa’s capitol city of Des Moines, tucked away in a small Iowa farm town, a man named Robbie Pedersen has created something remarkable: a working woodshop and retail store, as it might have existed in 1875. While in Iowa over the holidays, Gabe and I took an afternoon road trip to Jefferson, Iowa to see Robbie’s shop, called RVP 1875.
Unlike today’s woodshops, there aren’t any DeWalt cordless drills to be found, and no corded tools, either. There are plenty of power tools, though, if you shift your perspective on what powers those tools. There weren’t many electrical plants in 1875, so all of the stationary tools in Robbie’s shop are powered by hand cranks, foot treadles, and yes, even bicycle pedals.
A modern (power-tool) woodworker would recognize most of the tools here, including his rare, hand-crank table saw. Turning a handle on one side turns both the small 7-inch blade and an integral power feeder. This thing looks pretty primitive, but the idea is very simple and elegant - a lever controls how much downward pressure is applied to the power feeder, which governs how quickly the wood is fed into the blade. Your hands never come near the blade, which is about as safe as a table saw gets, and because the workpiece is held down by the feeder, there’s no risk of kickback (not that it matters to the operator, who is standing safely to the crank side of the saw, nowhere near the danger zone in front of the blade).
There’s also a foot-powered mortiser, but unlike a modern mortiser, it doesn’t drill out mortises, instead shaving down the sides at a perfect 90 degrees to the workpiece. This is the start of the industrial revolution as applied to woodworking - machinery is taking the place of a skilled craftsman. Now any idiot can create a perfectly square mortise!
I’d seen Roy Underhill use one of these “portable drill presses” on his television show, “The Woodwright’s Shop,” but I’d never seen one in person. It’s designed to cut holes at controlled angles, and can be clamped to large timbers to cut mortises for timber-framing projects.
Robbie’s treadle lathe was enormous, almost 6 feet between centers. It looked like a good way to get a workout, but he explained that he just moves to a different task when one part of his body tires. Done with the lathe? Time for some sawing!
Speaking of saws … check out his saw collection. He told us that he has saws that are better for ripping walnut, and ones that work better for ripping maple. Some excel at cross-cutting tenons, while others are better for dovetails. Whatever his reasoning, it sure is a handsome lineup.
As Norm says, you can never have too many clamps, and Robby’s not short on those either. These are wooden bar clamps that look like they’ve seen quite a bit of use over the years. There are a lot of folks out there that collect things like this for decor, but it’s really cool to see these amazing tools in use, still being cared for and respected.
So what does Robbie Pedersen make with all these great tools? I guess if pressed I’d call them “modern antiques,” but that’s a little over-simplified. He makes furniture that looks like it was built by farmers, but with an artistry based in today’s world. I grew up in a house overflowing with Shaker and Amish antiques, and those pieces were intentionally simple, and showed their age through dings, dents and missing parts. Robbie’s pieces look rough, but intentionally so. The parts and pieces are assembled with an eye toward creating an aged effect, but not in a manner designed to confuse or trick. Instead, he selects distressed wood for its contribution to a piece’s entire visual appeal, and it’s a style that really works.
Each piece in Robbie’s showroom has a story, and he’s delighted to tell it to you. This hutch was one of the bigger pieces in his shop, and Robbie carefully described its construction as both a woodworker (noting the complexity of the arched door tops) but also as historian (farm houses rarely had closets and hutches like this contained the home’s clothing and linens). Robbie’s work as he sees it is part teacher, part woodworker, and he gives tours frequently to school children, boy scout troops and even senior tour buses.
If you’re in the neighborhood, RVP 1875 is not to be missed, but it’s a worthy destination unto itself. Come for the great tools (he even has some “users” arranged for sale), but stay for the history lesson and engaging personality. Thanks, Robby.
