The tone-quality of Andre Watts's instrument, a Yamaha, is mellow to the point of pluminess. It produces some extremely beautiful sounds, but it also tends to impose a uniformity of timbre which gives diminishing returns. It's rather like listening to a fine elocutionist as opposed to a fine actor. The playing contributes to this impression in various ways—Watts's technique is very rarely embarrassed by Beethoven's demands (the snatched flourishes in the first allegro of Op. 27 No. 1 are uncharacteristic) but neither is his imagination greatly stirred by them.
A symptom of this is that tempos tend to sound too slow even when they're not. It is perfectly legitimate to do the opening of the Appassionata as broadly as this, but only if a suppressed allegro assai (Beethoven's marking) can be conveyed, rather than a straightforward andante. The finale generates little excitement, again because of slackness in the dramatic projection rather than in the basic tempo. The Moonlight finale, after a cotton-woolish first movement and a stolid Allegretto, works up a bit more steam, and there is enjoyment to be had from hearing the textures so adroitly controlled. But the general impression remains, whether it be in the flat fen-like contours of his Appassionata slow movement or the doggedness of his Op. 27 No. 1 last movement, that Andre Watts is not an instinctive Beethovenian.'