Kishori Amonkar, who has died aged 84, was one of Hindustani music’s finest classical singers. A specialist in the khyal style, which emphasises emotion and improvisation, she was known for her rich, soulful voice and for combining innovation with tradition; she also mixed her classical work with an interest in popular songs and film music. India’s president, Pranab Mukherjee, said that her death was “an irreparable loss to the world of Indian music”.

Although recognised as a leading exponent of the Jaipur gharana (a community of musicians who share a distinctive style), she developed an individual approach that reflected other gharanas – which brought her criticism as well as praise. She argued that “one should not teach students the limits of this art … There are none. But one has to understand the grammar – that is why one is taught the ragas.” She became known for the ease of her singing, and for what one Indian writer described as her “painful melancholy”.

Kishori was born in what was then Bombay, now Mumbai. Her father, Madhavdas Bhatia, died when she was six, leaving her and her two siblings to be brought up by their mother, Mogubai Kurdikar, a celebrated classical singer who had a profound influence on her career. Mogubai had been taught by Alladiya Khan, founder of the Jaipur gharana, and passed on these vocal techniques to her daughter. She was an exacting teacher: Kishori said that her mother would sing her a sthayi (a phrase or line of a Hindustani composition) just twice, and she was expected to concentrate so hard that she learned and understood the song in that short time.

In her early career Amonkar travelled with her mother to performances, accompanying her on the tanpura, the stringed instrument used to provide drone effects. While working with her mother, and watching her perform, she became concerned at the way that female classical musicians were treated, in particular that they were not always fairly paid.

Kishori Amonkar became known for the ease of her singing, and what one Indian writer described as her ‘painful melancholy’

In her 20s, Amonkar reportedly lost her voice completely for two years, and only began singing again after being treated with Ayurveda, traditional Indian medical techniques. She said that the break helped her to develop her individual style, rather than copy what she had been taught.

After establishing her reputation as a classical singer, Amonkar – Tai, as she became affectionately known – was attracted to film music, singing the title song for the 1964 blockbuster Geet Gaaya Pattharon Ne, apparently to the disapproval of her mother, who wanted her to concentrate on classical styles. Even so, she returned to film music later in her career, composing songs for the 1990 movie Drishti.

Although one of India’s finest singers, she never sought international fame. She was notoriously hard to interview, did not enjoy travelling abroad and limited the number of concerts she gave. She did not like to perform more than once a week, even at the height of her career, preferring to stay in her music room, bent over the harp-like swaramandal with which she accompanied her singing. Her riyaaz (rigorous music practice sessions) sometimes lasted for eight to 10 hours a day. Before concerts, she often spent time alone rather than socialising with other musicians.

Famous for chastising audiences if she felt that they were not paying enough attention, on one occasion she refused to perform because she considered the audience to be not suitably respectful. She was quoted as saying that “music is not just about words and beats. It is also about the emotion behind the rendition.” And that “music is a dialogue with the divine”. Her many recordings included Live in London (1998) and Sampradaya: Carrying Forward a Tradition (2003).

She received two of the Indian government’s highest civilian awards. In 1987 she was awarded the Padma Bhushan, which had also been awarded to her mother, and this was followed in 2002 by the Padma Vibhushan. In 2011 she was the subject of a documentary, Bhinna Shadja, in which the tabla virtuoso Zakir Hussain argued that she was one of the greatest Hindustani singers of all time.

Her husband, Ravindra Amonkar, a schoolteacher, predeceased her. She is survived by their sons, Nihar and Bibhas.

• Kishori Amonkar, singer, born 10 April 1932; died 3 April 2017