After Mr. Yunupingu’s death, to honor a cultural taboo among Aborigines from northern Australia, many supporters and much of the Australian news media have refrained from publishing photos of his face or using his given names, referring to him instead as Dr. G. Yunupingu. (Mr. Yunupingu was awarded an honorary doctorate of music by the University of Sydney in 2012.)

“In this day of too much noise, Dr. G. Yunupingu showed us that music is a powerful force for reconciliation,” Mark Grose, managing director of Skinnyfish Music, said at a news conference. “One of the greatest achievements any of us can have is to touch the hearts of others. And this is what Dr. G. Yunupingu did over and over and over again.”

Tributes to Mr. Yunupingu poured across social media.

“Dr. G. Yunupingu was a remarkable Australian sharing Yolngu language with the world through music. Prayers for Galiwin’ku & family & friends,” Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull wrote on Twitter.

Mr. Turnbull’s predecessor, Tony Abbott, tweeted: “A hauntingly beautiful voice is now still.”

Mr. Yunupingu was born on Jan. 22, 1971, into the Gumatj clan of the Yolngu. Because of his blindness, he “was stuck with the family more than a normal rebellious kid,” Michael Hohnen, a frequent collaborator and producer, told The International Herald Tribune in 2008.

As a boy, Mr. Yunupingu was “stuck going to the church and learning all the gospel songs, stuck playing a toy piano his mother gave him, and being given a guitar and being told, ‘Play this.’ ”

Largely self-taught, he picked up a right-handed guitar when he was 6 and learned to play it upside down with his left hand. He left school when he was 12 and never learned Braille.

Often described by the news media as “acutely shy,” Mr. Yunupingu rarely granted interviews and said little in those few meetings with reporters, preferring to let his music speak for itself.