It was partly as penance for having missed the previous evening's Czech festival that I arena-prommed for last night's Moravian finale, to be happily strafed by the nine extra trumpets of Janáček's Sinfonietta.

The Hallé Orchestra, enlarged for the occasion with harps, anvils, horns and such, was in its place on the platform. Sir Mark Elder made his entrance like a surgeon about to embark on a complex and energy-draining heart bypass operation. And the lights went out. On purpose. A spotlight picked up a man in a white shirt with long hair mounting the platform and making his way to a small table, chair and reading lamp mid-stage. It was Richard Wagner – in the form of actor Roger Allam. Pure melodrama.

The creative seed, once planted, can take a long time to germinate and come into bloom – in this case 37 years. For Victoria Wood, 1974 was a seminal year – she turned 21, she won New Faces and she saw a Thames TV documentary about the Manchester Children’s Choir who famously sang Purcell’s "Nymphs and Shepherds" with the Halle under Sir Hamilton Harty in the Free Trade Hall. That recording, featuring 250 children from 50 Manchester schools, was in 1929 and the resulting 78rpm Columbia record became an unexpected hit, selling a million copies.

The Meltdown Festival's tribute to Tony Wilson was a lot like the charismatic post-punk legend himself: funny, eccentric, obscure, populist; all over the place but never dull. Wilson died in August 2007 and this event was a reminder of his reputation as one of music's most fascinating post-punk provocateurs, giving the world Joy Division, Happy Mondays and more. It was also a reminder of his reputation, as poet Mike Garry put it, as a "knobhead". As someone who appeared on regional news programmes quoting Wordsworth while hang-gliding, Wilson could be spectacularly uncool.

Dickens wasn’t wrong – hard times they were. Around 1300 men, women and children worked at the Murrays’ Mills complex in the Ancoats area of Manchester in its mid-19th-century heyday (if you can call it that). Arrive a minute later than 7am and you were locked out, without pay. Now that actors are treading those same worn and oil-stained boards with an imaginative new version of Hard Times, you won’t get in after 7pm (and you’re the one paying, of course).

Under starter’s orders, baton raised, and they’re off! Following on the heels and wheels of the Grand National and the F1 Grand Prix, the grand adventure of Maazel’s Mahler marathon with the Philharmonia is up and running, albeit at a more moderate pace, although the indefatigable octogenarian whips up a fair head of steam when called for. This particular “celebration” of Mahler’s death 100 years ago (come 18  May), will last until October, allowing for a summer break. The Philharmonia tour, like any respectable travelling show, will take in parts of the UK that many other orchestras don’t reach, like Gateshead and Hull, as well as Germany, naturally, and odd other places like Paris and Luxembourg. So they can’t be accused of not sharing the spoils around or sparing themselves.

Under starter’s orders, baton raised, and they’re off! Following on the heels and wheels of the Grand National and the F1 Grand Prix, the grand adventure of Maazel’s Mahler marathon with the Philharmonia is up and running, albeit at a more moderate pace, although the indefatigable octogenarian whips up a fair head of steam when called for. This particular “celebration” of Mahler’s death 100 years ago (come 18  May), will last until October, allowing for a summer break. The Philharmonia tour, like any respectable travelling show, will take in parts of the UK that many other orchestras don’t reach, like Gateshead and Hull, as well as Germany, naturally, and odd other places like Paris and Luxembourg. So they can’t be accused of not sharing the spoils around or sparing themselves.

Of all the unlikely musical pairings in recent times, Jesca Hoop and Guy Garvey deserve special mention. The genial Elbow frontman, all northern charm and indie anthems, is like a favourite bitter. Hoop, on the other hand, former nanny to Tom Waits's children, is more like something Lewis Carroll's Alice might have drunk. Since she moved from California to Manchester, Garvey has been mentoring Hoop, and appeared on her best-known song.

A sliderule of 11-15 per cent reductions in annual grants by 2015, compared with this year, has been applied to Britain's major orchestras, opera, dance, theatre and music organisations. One major gainer is London's Barbican Centre - one major loser is the now world-famous Almeida Theatre, which loses almost 40 per cent of its current annual subsidy despite its reputation for innovation and discovery. However, the Arcola Theatre, another small innovative theatre, gets a big boost. Companies to lose all their grant from next year include Hammersmith's Riverside Studios and Derby Theatre.

Is Guy Garvey really as lovely as he seems? I hope so. Last night, on the first of two nights for the Bury band at the O2 Arena, their lead singer, this big bearded bear of a man, came across as clever, funny, confident, warm, positive and inspirational. He can sing a bit, too, possessing a voice of uncommon sweetness and purity and unerring accuracy, slipping effortlessly into falsetto and back when required. Really, unless you happen to be the kind of person who likes to swim through seas of cynicism, what’s not to like?

And blowing away cynicism was what this gig was all about: shamelessly, cheesily (arm waving? Tick. Singing along? Tick. Giant mirrrorball? Tick), this was an exercise in making 18,000 people feel better about themselves, about each other and about the world, using big bold and anthemic songs allied with sparkling spectacle to lift the spirits and banish the demons. Nor was this some kind of Panglossian la-la land; Elbow make music that’s rooted in real lived experience (something that’s inevitably accentuated by the northern-ness of Garvey’s delivery, sung as well as spoken), reflecting individual traumas and collective tribulations. But what shines through, always, is the big beating heart of this five-piece band.

They’ve played big festivals before, but to my knowledge they’ve never performed in a place the size of the O2, and yet Garvey was entirely undaunted, chatting garrulously, completely at ease. There was nothing here of the frenetic desperate nerviness of other great live bands such as Arcade Fire: the occasion was dignified by a sense of calmness, almost serenity, that was reflected in the rapt attentiveness of the crowd. Garvey was even unfazed when a pair of knickers landed next to him. “That’s never happened before,” he said, “in 20 years!” before calmly tucking them into his suit-jacket pocket.

Elbow’s set of nearly two hours was paced with the confidence of a band who have been together for 20 years, who know how to lay a long, slow-burning fuse, beginning with “The Birds” (from the new album, Build a Rocket Boys!), moving on through the stately big-beat waltz of “The Loneliness of a Tower Crane Driver” and culminating in the glorious explosion of joy that is “One Day Like This”. A smaller satellite stage gave Garvey (and for a while the rest of the band) a place to roam and pace, a station from which to survey the audience, while lights and screens added sparkle and colour.

Also, mention should be made of the sound system: I don’t know how it was from elsewhere in the arena, but from where I was sitting it was impeccable. I have seen countless gigs in which string sections were employed for what can only have been decorative effect, given that their sawings were almost always entirely inaudible, but here the four string players were strong and, well, stringy. And the rest was marvellously clear, too, from the deep rumble of the bass on “Station Approach” to the gently plucked acoustic guitar on “Weather to Fly”.

So, nothing to complain about? Well, in arena gigs the crowd have an important part to play in creating an atmosphere and trying to lift the lid, and here I think they shirked their responsibilities somewhat, being a bit on the passive side. But that’s all. And if I’ve given the impression that this was just the Guy Garvey show, this certainly wasn’t the case: the other four members of the band (pictured above) played their parts brilliantly, too: Elbow’s music is at times quite tricky and multilayered but they never missed a beat. It’s just that Garvey, the force of his personality, the bigness of his heart, is so compellingly watchable.