A small table made from the ancient timbers of Old London Bridge is to be sold at auction. The oak furniture was hewn from the foundations of the old bridge after its demolition in 1833. That dates the material back to at least 1176 when construction began. The table is expected to fetch around £3000 when it goes on sale in Edinburgh on Wednesday. Those with shallower pockets can find remnants of the bridge dotted around London. Stone alcoves from the bridge decorate both Victoria Park and Guy’s campus, and a large coat of arms from a bridge archway hangs above the door to the Kings Arms on Newcomen Street. Know of any other remnants?

The older we get the more we think that Ikea just won’t do for anything except meatballs. We want to go to Heal’s and splurge every penny we’ve ever saved. That still would probably only buy us half a chair.

Alarms are thus set for this Saturday morning when we’re going to get up nice and early, head to Edmonton, drive straight past Ikea and run through the Heal’s Warehouse Sale emptying our bank account like nobody’s business. Open from 9am till 1pm, we’re promised up to 70% off ex-display, clearance and excess stock.

Located at Heal’s distribution centre, 10 Ardra Road, Edmonton, N9 0BD, we’ll see you bright and early in the race for a sofa.

Ron Arad, Bad Tempered Chair, 2002. Photo courtesy Ron Arad Associates

How to attract punters to view the work of a sui-generis polymath like Ron Arad, a name that may not be familiar to the massed ranks of London’s casual culture vultures? The Barbican is banking on a spot of wiff-waff: “Art, Design, Architecture, Ping Pong”, blazes the legend on posters across town.

It seems something of a brush-off for a man capable of designing pieces of furniture for a species yet to evolve. Some are recognisable in form, if not wholly in function: rocking chairs, chaises longues, and recliners that look capable of supporting the human frame, if not wholeheartedly; others lead you to wonder what creature would bend its form into the sinuous shape thrown by the material.

This major retrospective, designed by Ron Arad Associates, starts off feeling perhaps a little too much like a walk-through catalogue. In the upstairs space, showroom-style partitions greet visitors to each section (given names like “Tinkering”, “Superforming”, “Gomling”) with ceiling-high LED walls unctuously advertising the delights to be found within. As a collection of concept pieces, the furniture here disdains the practical. The broken typewriter that acts as the (presumably uncomfortable) seat of a chair looks like a prop from Naked Lunch, and many of the objects look like they’d light up the eyes of a no-win no-fee lawyer. The imagination extends to the naming conventions, which run from the subtly comic O the Farmer and the Cowman Should Be Friends (a bookcase shaped like the continental United States) to the Beckett-like Happy Days (a stainless steel desk-and-chair combo).

The downstairs space showcases Arad’s work on a grander scale. A series of deliriously impractical bookcases — including RTW from 1996, a pair of circular nested wheels that roll back and forth along a track — make one long for the demise of the Kindle and iPad and the renaissance of the print industry. A section dedicated to his mass-market material at last permits the resting of weary feet, but inevitably the envelope-pushing is humbler when constrained by that inconvenient human need for comfort. The aforementioned ping pong table — a curved stainless steel piece unlikely to be gracing any Olympic court — is also here, and there is a bat and ball available for anybody interested in a game (Arad himself is reputed to possess a cultured hand). Also to be found in the lower space is an area called Failing, which with a rare humility showcases some of the ideas that never quite made the grade once built.

One final room suggests that Arad’s best is yet to come: the section on architecture showcases the just-completed Design Museum Holon, in his native Israel. The largest project yet by the practice, the striking museum bends five thick bands of supporting cor-ten steel around a pair of column-free galleries. The museum embodies Arad’s approach well: a form both visually stunning yet perfectly suited to its intended use, it has been warmly greeted in Israel, and as the firm’s first building, hints at the potential yet to come.

Ron Arad: Restless, at the Barbican, runs till May 16th.

Arad’s playfulnes is further displayed in the gallery’s Bodyguard collection — a series of figures made from inflated aerospace aluminium (the Israeli sure likes his materials obscure), morphed into various grafity-defying positions. Some, labelled “drunk bodyguards”, are riddled with what could be taken for bulletholes.

The most beautiful objects in the show see Arad return to his traditional forte of furniture design. The Thumbprint chair, made from multiple bronze rods, has a delicious form whose comfort would, at a guess, be something of a compromise, while the Rod Gomli looks like a chaise longue that the T-1000 might be comfortable reclining in. A brief but intriguing show, and one that offers a taster for the forthcoming Arad retrospective that the Barbican will show early next year.

On Wednesday April 29th, the designer will be speaking at the gallery, in conversation with Anthony Gormley. Call 020 7409 3344 for more details.

Ron Arad at Timothy Taylor Gallery, 15 Carlos Place, W1K 2EX. The show runs until 9th May. Entry is free.

82. A Christmas Ghost Story: Curse of the Nurse!

One night in 1943, the air raids had been particularly severe over London, and so the following day it wasn’t unusual for workman Charles Bide to be sent off to various crumbling and damaged abodes to retrieve furniture that had survived the blitz. On this occasion his boss sent him to St Thomas’s Hospital.

Upon arrival on this rather cold day he noticed that inside the building there seemed an unnatural coldness, although he thought nothing more of it and made his way through the rooms in search of furniture to secure. Only the sound of his own footsteps echoed throughout the building and when he reached the top floor freezing spots of cold seemed to appear. It was then that he glimpsed the mirror…

It had been undamaged by the raids and as he approached he was terrified to see that in the reflection a figure resembling a female nurse, but adorned in Victorian clothing, was standing directly behind him. The face of the woman was one of turmoil – a grim expression which held Charles transfixed until he shook himself away from the ashen glare.

Mr Bide scampered out of the building. He spoke of his encounter with a doctor but due to the pressures of the time, there was no time for such people to converse about ghosts. However it is alleged that for a few years after Charles’ experience, many others did indeed come forward to report the phantom, but none of their confrontations were as chilling as Mr Bide’s.

Photo by mark cummins on flickr

It might be today’s sudden onslaught of barmy summer madness, but downright weirdness is most definitely going on down at Brockwell Lido, Lambeth’s much-loved open-air swimming pool.

We hear disturbing reports of pool-goers competing to make jelly-moulds of buildings, and others making seats – but inspired solely by the concept of, um, napkin-folding.

Obviously, we were immediately concerned that the dodgy french art teacher from our old school had somehow taken control over the lido (you know the one – he wore purple leather trousers and smelt of Crinoline). But after investigation, it turns out that their latest event actually sounds quite cool.

Next weekend (3rd and 4th May) the Lido will hold its first Modern Movement Design Fair. So if 1930s iconic furniture and furnishings float your, er, boat, then you should probably pop in – especially if the names Eames, Wegner, Jacobson, Wanscher, Bertoia or Riley make you touch your chin and say “hmmm”. Expect talks and tours with architects and young designers – and piles of old stuff for sale.

All organised by a man* who runs the rather splendid Bleu in Herne Hill, but only because his home was originally taken over by vintage chairs to such an extent that he either had to set up in business or he’d never be able to get out of the door.

* (Wonder if he wears purple leather trousers? We warned you there’d be weirdness.)

For those of you with a penchant for furniture with an artistic flair or pretty but undeniably useless knick-knacks, your mecca is open for this weekend only. FORM: London – which takes over Olympia National Hall until 2 March – falls somewhere between massive gallery experience and fantasy shopping excursion. Featuring items from understated hand-carved furniture to large-scale paintings to surreal centre pieces. And everything can be taken home if the contents of your wallet match the price tags.

As everyone visiting might not been in the market to redecorate (or buy a caravan), there is still plenty to enjoy in the novelty. Some of the furniture seems almost too fantastic to ever use but is no less beautiful for the fact; Getty Images has reached back into their archives and brought out dozens of rare prints; Kinetica Museum has an installation featuring humans in motion that is both fascinating and slightly unsettling. There is also dna, a section devoted to the fresh ideas of lesser-known designers. The focus on rising talent again gives FORM a gallery feel, though the works in dna vary from table wares to murals. And if you’d prefer to enjoy things in coffee table book form, there is an area of just books featuring more exclusive must-haves as well as the most elaborate children’s pop-up books imaginable.

For those with a more technical bent, there are lectures being held throughout the weekend discussing the marriage of art and design and the nature of art collecting today. Talks will also be given twice each day by MA students at the Courtauld Institute singling out works in the show. And if you prefer the white glove treatment, you can arrange to have a consult take you around the exhibition.

From what we can gather, pop art harking back to Warhol’s Elvis and Marilyn is still all the rage, neon is the way to brighten up a lighting fixture, and there seems to be a growing market for chairs and small sofas comprised of plush animals (included according to habitat). FORM over function indeed.

By Amanda Farah

FORM: London until 2 March, Olympia National Hall. Tickets are £12/£10 at the door. Children under 14 free. For more information and advance tickets, visit the FORM website.