Russell Watson should have spent spring and autumn this year on tour with a full orchestra, celebrating 20 years since the release of his landmark, debut album, The Voice. Instead, like everyone else, he was mostly confined to home.

Briefly, it looked like he might get to perform live in his anniversary year after all at a series of drive-in gigs.

“Then those were cancelled as well,” says the multi platinum-selling tenor from his home in Alderley Edge, both a stone’s throw and a million miles from the Salford estate he grew up on. “It’s back to keeping my fingers crossed that 2021 is the year I get to look into the eyes of an audience again.”

If Russell is taking circumstances in his stride, it’s little wonder. Having not only survived two brain tumours, but bounced back against all odds in better voice than ever before, he doesn’t do defeat. Or as he prefers to put it, “You don’t come from a Salford factory floor to conquering the classical world without being a driven lunatic”.

Russell’s rise is the stuff of fairytale, a movie script in-the-making that saw the former bolt-cutter and working mens’ club act top charts both at home and abroad, perform for Popes and Presidents and open global sporting events from Champions League and Rugby Cup Finals to the Commonwealth Games. Single-handedly, the People’s Tenor, as he was dubbed, created classical-pop crossover, a genre that hasn’t stopped snowballing since.

For the workaholic, lockdown was a breeze as much as a shock, with a schedule as busy as ever, if not always of his own making.

“For the first three weeks, my wife had me doing all of the jobs I’ve been talking about for the past ten years, but never got around to,” says Russell. “From the fence that needed fixing so the dog doesn’t escape to clearing out a junk-stuffed garden shed. My God, that shed! It nestles at the bottom of an acre of garden and from the kitchen window it looks pretty small. Inside, it’s the bloody Tardis.”

Behind the mountain bike Russell didn’t remember buying but has made good use of as part of his fierce, daily fitness routine and the unopened kite he finally assembled but hasn’t yet attempted to fly, he found dozens of sealed boxes full of old stage outfits and suits specially made for high-profile events, among them meeting the Queen.

“70% of the clothes we took straight to the local homeless shelter,” says Russell. “If you see someone wandering round these parts in a red pinstripe Armani suit, it’s almost certainly mine.”

It wasn’t all domestic chores. By June, it was back to work recording 20, an astonishing anniversary album which captures key moments in Russell’s career, evoking memories of two decades of standing on the world’s most prestigious stages, of mass stadium singalongs, of record-breaking sales and of overcoming obstacles.

When plans to fly in Russell’s regular producer Ian Tilley from New Zealand were scuppered by travel restrictions, the pair simply made new plans. For two week-long sessions in June and July, Ian assembled a socially-distanced orchestra at Orange studios in Christchurch. Meanwhile, Russell was in Wadleigh studios in Wilmslow taking instructions and overseeing proceedings via Skype.

“Normally, I’d always be at orchestra sessions, but in fact this didn’t feel much different,” says Russell. “I was in a booth wearing headphones. I could have been 10 feet rather than 10,000 miles away. I wouldn’t rule it out as a way to record in the future.”

The album’s 13 songs are a mix of career signposts and personal favourites, all newly-recorded, some spectacularly rearranged.

“Probably half had to be there because they define my career, not just in regard to recording, but particularly live,” says Russell. “Volare is a staple. I’ve sung it at every concert for 25 years. And obviously, Nessun Dorma, which launched my career. How many times have I sung that in my life? Are we counting the seven years of singing it in clubs, five or six nights a week? In that case, thousands.”

Verde’s Caruso, Puccini’s E Lucevan Le Stelle and O Sole Mio are among the operatic classics structurally untouched, but revisited by Russell in a voice that has not only grown stronger due to decades of performing and intense studying, but that became more musical and wider in range after his second surgery had an unexpected side effect.

“You can’t mess with the big arias – it’s not good to start rewriting Puccini,” laughs Russell. “But the difference in my voice from when I first recorded some of those songs is striking.”

“I came into this industry vocally able to sing the songs, but technically I had a lot of learning to do, which I have done with various vocal coaches. In addition, my tonality totally changed after my second operation. I could feel it the first time I sang post recovery. With my nasal passages finally clear, I opened my mouth and my voice felt like the gateway to the universe. It was incredible.”

Among the songs rearranged is the Dianne Warren-penned Where My Heart Will Take Me, aka the theme from Star Trek: Enterprise.

“I remember Diane ringing me up saying she had a song for me,” recalls Russell. “At first I thought it was a joke. ‘Have you heard of Star Trek, Russell?’ Uh, yes. ‘You wanna sing the theme song?’ Uh, yes. Actually, fuck, yes!

“Next thing I know, I’m at Paramount Studios in L.A. with a producer asking me to sing like Rod Stewart. ‘We want it rocky, raspy, like Rod,’ the guy said. I’m guessing Rod was unavailable. Or too expensive.

“Anyway, it was Russell-does-Rod and a lot of people aren’t even aware it’s me singing. Now, I’ve finally been able to make the song mine. We stripped it right back to piano, strings and voice and made it beautifully moody and spacious. That’s one I’m itching to try live.”

With his 20^th anniversary tour due to start in January, Russell doesn’t have too long to wait. And between promoting 20 remotely all around the world and keeping fit, there are still odd jobs to keep him busy at home.

“A few years back, we had hundreds of cobblestones put into the pathways front and back as a homage to Coronation Street,” he sighs. “At some point in lockdown, I decided they were looking a bit wiry and got the jet washer out to clean them. Months on, and I still haven’t finished….”

That tour can’t start soon enough.