Betty Loo Taylor, Hawaii’s unrivaled “First Lady of Jazz,” died early Wednesday at the Palolo Chinese Home. She was 87.

Her fans and critics called her “Lady Fingers,” because of her commanding prowess and power on the keyboards, as detailed in a 2003 documentary on her life.

Taylor, born Feb. 27, 1929, suffered a stroke earlier this summer, which left her with paralysis, rendering her unable to play the piano. The cause of death was complications from pneumonia, according to her husband, Kenneth L. Taylor. An aide had found her unresponsive during a routine morning check.

“Her musicianship was … flawless and innovative, and she was way before her time as a jazz pianist,” said Joy Abbott, a jazz singer Taylor accompanied on the “For All We Know” CD, which earned them a 2008 Na Hoku Hanohano Award as the year’s best jazz disc. In 2012, Taylor also earned a Na Hoku Lifetime Achievement award.

“She was a populist, a purist, with classical training that included Juilliard,” said Abbott, speaking from Florida. “I first met her at Punahou School; she graduated in 1946, I graduated in 1948, and we’ve been friends since. She accompanied me in four shows at the Arcadia and a few at Kahala Nui.”

Their chemistry was good, said Abbott. “I don’t do vocal acrobatics — I sing straight, paying homage to the composers — but she would do underlying things, going her own way, with her piano magic. But it all worked. And she never used sheet music; she knew thousands of songs, all in her head. You could sing a few bars and she’d catch up with you.”

Taylor was the keyboarder when she and Jimmy Borges (who died May 30 at 80) earned a spot on the Waikiki map at the former Keone’s, a cozy club on Lewers Street in the 1960s. Their charisma — he as a silky, smooth jazz stylist, she as the one-woman orchestra with a penchant for improv and extended riffs — drew long lines in a city that had not yet acknowledged jazz as a legitimate drawing card.

“My mom used to take to me to Keone’s to hear her and Jimmy when I was a teenager,” said John Kolivas, a bassist who fronts the John Kolivas Quartet. “So glad I had the opportunity to play with her over the years; she was one of a kind. Nobody played like her … but she could be a terror for bass players, using the whole piano, she made it sound like an orchestra. Every night was so much fun.”

It was at Trappers in the 1970s and ’80s when Borges and Taylor (and their house band) became a hit among club-hoppers and jazz buffs, attracting both local audiences and visitors, including the Hollywood crowd.

“Betty was this awesome phenomenon,” said Jimmy Funai, a guitarist who played with Taylor and Borges at Trappers. “She was very funny, though she had this stern look, but she had a great sense of humor,” he said. “Joe Sample (the late pianist) came in to watch her play; the Beach Boys’ Carl Wilson sang; and Jerry Lee Lewis brought his whole band in, too.”

Funai said Taylor had a quirky side only a few knew: “One of her passions was going to the hardware store, like City Mill, to browse along the aisles. She loved looking at tools; I think she was a DIY person.”

Drummer Sonny Froman, reached at his Corry, Pa., home, recalled not only Taylor’s musicianship but also her sense of humor. “I worked with her at the Kahala Hilton (now the Kahala Hotel &Resort) for a few years, and I remember one night when she did a half-hour of comedy piano, singing between the cracks of the keys. She hated when couples sat near the keyboards and started talking; she’d stare them down, or play louder and louder. She was great to work with, and she was like an aunty to us in the band.”

Audy Kimura, a singer-guitarist-composer-producer, recalled the times he guest-performed with Borges and Taylor during the heyday of Trappers.

“She was a genius in the way she played. She made new pathways into music that nobody else thought about,” Kimura said.

Kimura recalled the time when Borges took a break from the microphone and left Taylor solo at the keyboards. “She did a solo instrumental of Paul McCartney’s ‘My Love’ that was so gripping, so superb. I always requested it whenever she performed.”

Taylor was a child prodigy, playing piano at age 3-1/2, and her Asian-American background made her noticeable in the jazz arena. She was profiled in a 2003 documentary, “They Call Her Lady Fingers,” which was screened at the Hawaii International Film Festival.

Taylor had huddled with singer Abbott about a follow-up CD of hapa-haole Hawaiian tunes rendered with a jazz motif, but health problems prevented further discussion.

Besides her husband, she is survived by a daughter, Karen L. Lindsay, and grandson Kenneth P. Lindsay. Services are pending.