"I am not a musician," Luciano Pavarotti once asserted. "I don't go into the technicalities... If I have the music in mind and sing with my body, then it's fine."

It was more than fine. During an operatic career that spanned over four decades, Pavarotti established himself as not only one of the greatest tenors of all time — the 'King of the High C's', whose beautifully rich, Italianate voice boasted an exhilarating upper register — but also one of the most successful, embellishing critical plaudits with a mass popularity normally only reserved for rock superstars. In the process, he helped classical music to cross over to the mainstream.

Born just outside Modena in central Italy on October 12th, 1935, the son of Fernando Pavarotti, a baker and amateur tenor, Luciano was initially influenced by everyone from Enrico Caruso to Mario Lanza, but he didn't begin studying music seriously until his late teens. It was then that he learned he had perfect pitch. Still, he didn't make his professional debut until April 1961, performing as Rodolfo in Puccini's La Bohème in the northern town of Reggio Emilia, and repeating this role at the Vienna State Opera in February 1963. That same year, again playing Rodolfo, he made his Royal Opera House debut, and then came a career-changing connection when the famed Australian soprano, Joan Sutherland, recruited him to partner her on a concert tour of her home country.

Pavarotti would later credit Sutherland for developing his all-important breathing technique, and it was also thanks to her that he made his American debut in February 1965, singing opposite her in Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor with the Greater Miami Opera. His La Scala debut, performing in La Bohème with childhood friend Mirella Freni, came three months later at the request of conductor Herbert von Karajan, and on June 2nd Pavarotti then garnered widespread attention at the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden, courtesy of an effortless delivery of nine high C's during the 'Pour Mon Âme' aria of Donizetti's La Fille Du Régiment. When he repeated that feat before an ecstatic audience at New York City's Metropolitan Opera on February 17th, 1972, he earned a record 17 curtain calls and, in the process, rocket-launched the adulation that would see him evolve from an operatic luminary into a household name.

Nevertheless, while Pavarotti's live appearances established his reputation among the all-time vocal greats, it was his August 1972 recording of a role that he hadn't yet performed on stage that would yield his 'signature tune'. As Calaf, the 'unknown prince', opposite Joan Sutherland in the title role of Giacomo Puccini's Turandot, he falls in love with the beautiful but heartless Chinese princess. However, having answered three riddles that qualify him to marry her, he is rebuffed and issues a challenge of his own: either figure out his name by dawn and have him executed or fail and be forced to wed. (No-one said this was like real life.)

Turandot responds by passing the buck — none of Peking's subjects can sleep that night until the unknown prince's name is discovered, and if their mission isn't accomplished then they'll all be executed. Cue 'Nessun Dorma' ('None Shall Sleep'), Calaf's aria in the final act, in which he pledges, "But my secret is hidden within me; none will know my name," and a female chorus echoes this sentiment: "No one will know his name... and we will have to, alas, die, die!"

Building to a climax, Calaf forecasts his own success with the famous last line: "Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle! Tramontate, stelle! All'alba vincerò! Vincerò! Vincerò!" ("Vanish, o night! Set, stars! Set, stars! At daybreak I shall win! I shall win! I shall win!") The final 'Vincerò' requires a sustained B3, one of the highest and technically most difficult notes in the tenor range, yet one that Pavarotti emitted in bravura fashion. So much so that, after BBC TV selected his 1972 recording of 'Nessum Dorma' as the theme song for their coverage of the 1990 World Cup in Italy, the aria entered the British public's consciousness and reached number two in the UK singles chart — the highest ever classical placing in that regard. In bringing glory to football and opera to the masses, singer and song had become synonymous with one another.

One the eve of the 1990 World Cup Final between Germany and Argentina,...