Jessye Norman’s voice was a force of nature, a gift from the gods. When you went to hear her sing, you always knew exactly what you would get. Sumptuous, creamy and voluptuous tone was Norman’s trademark, along with a meticulous attention to text and expression. For some, it was all too grand and undifferentiated, like a meal in which the richness of the food was overwhelming and unchanging in every course. But the sheer vocal splendour that Norman produced was the sort of sound that comes only once in a lifetime.

Yet Norman was not just an unforgettable voice. She was an unforgettable public presence – an African American presence – in every event in which she participated. The knowingness that marked her vocal art extended seamlessly to her public conduct. Her choices on Desert Island Discs did not include her own recordings (which, given her personality, they might easily have done) but Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech. She was a majestic figure in every sense, and she knew from the start of her career to the end that she was also an embodiment of her black brothers and sisters. She would never be anybody’s second-class citizen. And she never was.

Norman was not the breakthrough African American singer of 20th-century America. Those imperishable accolades belonged to Marian Anderson and, a little later, to Leontyne Price, who each made the breaches in the whites-only world of classical music and opera. But she was in every way Price’s successor as the flag carrier for her people in the concert halls and opera houses of the US and the wider world. Like Price, she came from the south and developed her voice in church choirs. But, perhaps even more than Price, Norman embraced her iconic status in wider American life as an integral part of the gift she possessed.

Powerhouse … at Paris’s Théâtre du Châtelet in 2002. Photograph: Pierre-Franck Colombier/AFP/Getty Images

Norman’s operatic career had to take account of both her vocal richness and her substantial height. She never possessed an athletic stage presence, and she was not really an ensemble actor. The roles that suited her best were often statuesque, where her character’s emotional presence was able to dominate. Her Elizabeth in Wagner’s Tannhäuser and, in particular, her Cassandre in Berlioz’s Les Troyens, which she sang at Covent Garden, were characterisations of this kind. Later, she excelled in the title role of Strauss’s Ariadne auf Naxos, to which the tragic dignity of her vocal breadth was perfectly suited. Though she sang Mozart with total commitment, her voice was simply too big and her personality too grand to fit into such quicksilver writing.

Stories of Norman’s imperious behaviour were common in the musical world. She could be uncompromising about the standards she expected from herself and others. And she was said to require to be collected in a Rolls Royce. But she never lost her lofty status as a great artist. When Herbert von Karajan, another difficult and imperious personality, was preparing for what was likely to be his final appearance at the Salzburg festival, it was Norman he wanted by his side, to sing Isolde’s Liebestod.

Concerts were Norman’s ideal milieu, especially as her career entered its final years. Her range was great. She sang everything from art songs to spirituals. She was magnificent in large choral works, such as Schoenberg’s Gurrelieder under Pierre Boulez in the Proms at the Albert Hall. But she was the go-to singer for the great public American occasion, notably the presidential inaugurations of Ronald Reagan (about which, as a Democrat, she had trepidation) and later Bill Clinton. There may not have been many operas for which Norman was the ideal choice, but she was in every sense a larger than life and irreplaceable artist.

‘An unflinching connection to the eternal’

Rufus Wainwright, singer/songwriter

Rarely do all the essential elements of the performing arts combine in one human being. Stature, intelligence, a sense of movement, attention to detail, generosity to the public and above all that voice. All of these plus a little bit of magic imbued La Norman with what I love most about opera: a solid and unflinching connection to the eternal. Thank you Jessye for lighting the path to the universe.

‘After dinner, she put on an apron and did the dishes’

Clive Gillinson, artistic director of Carnegie Hall, New York

I got to know Jessye 50 years ago when I was a player, and then managing director, at the London Symphony Orchestra. We became friends: she had a house in London, and used to invite people round for the most spectacular dinners. She did the cooking and then we’d stand round the sink while she put on an apron and did the washing up! I remember also going dancing at Annabel’s with her – she was an incredible dancer. Very flamboyant, as you would expect.

The go-to singer … Norman performing during Bill Clinton’s second term inauguration ceremonies. Photograph: Dirck Halstead/The LIFE Images Collection via Getty Images

When I came to New York, one of the first things I did was develop citywide arts festivals, and I went to her home in upstate NY to ask if she would curate one on African American culture. I was nervous as I knew how busy she was, but she said to me: “Clive, I’ve been waiting my entire life to do this project.” She threw herself into it with incredible passion, thought and care – which was how she approached everything.

‘A big personality with a magnetic presence’

Lawrence Brownlee, tenor

Her musicality, her versatility, her eloquence in many languages and her standing in the world of classical music made Jessye Norman an icon and a role model for every singer of any nationality and any colour. But for me, as a young black American singer, she inspired me and gave me belief and hope that I could be successful too. As an established singer, I met her several times. She invited me to give a recital at the school she helped set up – the Jessye Norman School of the Arts in her home town of Augusta, Georgia.

Over dinner I discovered that she had been following my career, and even knew which show I was in. We kept in touch and she continued to watch and support me. She was at a stage in her life when she didn’t need to pay it forward, but she did, always. She was effusive in her compliments and really cared about me. She wanted to encourage me and my peers and see us succeed.

She was undeniably a big personality, a magnetic and strong presence on stage. She was one of the last remaining divas, a very bold singer who brought commitment and charisma to everything she did. She was one of the greatest of her generation in German repertoire, but what I love about her was that as a musician she simply wanted to communicate. She dealt with racism, and she talked about people not wanting to give her her dues, but she was extremely resilient and focused. She let her voice speak for her.

‘She wasn’t going to let anyone stop her’

Judith Weir, composer

We worked together on a song cycle, woman.life.song, that was at the Proms in 2000. It’s a project she dreamed up and was very intimately involved in the nitty gritty of shaping over the several years it took to develop. I remember she would send me very businesslike but charming faxes – now alas too faded to read. I wish I’d photographed them.

I found her extremely professional, well informed and a joy to work with. I know she had a reputation for being a diva, but that was not my experience. She spent so much of her life on the road that I think her exacting demands (about, say, air conditioning) were born of her experiences of what could have and had gone wrong. At the Proms, I remember being struck by the audience she had brought in – it was the first time I’d seen so many people of colour there. Thank goodness things are changing now, but she was about 20 years ahead of her time. She knew that boundaries, whether of colour or gender, had to be broken and she wasn’t going to let anyone stop her.

Performing with Bruce Springsteen, Sting, Jon Bon Jovi, Elton John and Billy Joel. Photograph: Time & Life Pictures/The Life Picture Collection via Getty Images

‘Wide open spaces shrank in her hands’

Iain Burnside, pianist

I never saw a singer dominate a space the way Jessye could. The wide open spaces of the Royal Festival Hall shrank in her hands. Every gesture, vocal and physical, carried to the back wall. I treasure her incredible spun line in Strauss’s Wiegenlied and her power in Zueignung. Her high-cheekboned smile will never be surpassed. She conveyed joy like no one else. A couple of years ago, I met her at a dinner and drove her back to her hotel. She squeezed my leg as she said thank you and I thought that my life was complete.

‘Jessye always gave 150%’

Lise Davidsen, soprano

I’ve only been able to get to know her voice through her recordings – I wish I’d had the chance to see her live. But she has always been such an inspiration, an idol, for me, from the extraordinary colours of her voice, her amazing technique, to her choices in terms of repertoire. She always gave 150% and I love and admire her for the way she spoke out for our art form. She was always clear about how important classical music is and that it needs to be part of all our lives. It didn’t need justification. She showed that it doesn’t matter if you are a man, a woman, black or white – when you have a voice as great as that, you need to share it.

‘Despite the odds, she commanded attention’

Sir Willard White, bass baritone

She approached everything she did, every role, with total commitment. She commanded attention, despite all the odds – in a way, she was actually inspired by the odds. She set such a high standard that she was intimidating and inspiring at the same time. Of her recordings, I would single out her Four Last Songs for its elegance and beauty. She showed how it should be done.

‘Jessye will live on in our hearts’

Joyce DiDonato, mezzo soprano

The voice was instantly recognisable, the phrasing supreme, the persona larger than life, and the impact eternal. Jessye’s onstage legacy will remain with us all, but her impact off stage changed lives and will continue to live on through her towering example, mentorship, leadership and passion. She will live on in our hearts for ever.

• Interviews by Imogen Tilden