Rediscovering Live Performance and Why We’re Bringing Concerts to Fortnite

Recently, I had the privilege of attending a live performance at Karlskirche in Vienna. It was a ten-piece string section performing Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons—a piece of music that has always held a special place for me. The church, located in Karlsplatz, where Vivaldi himself was buried, was an utterly stunning venue. Its ceiling fresco, combined with a contemporary light art installation, immediately drew my eye upwards, setting a perfect atmosphere for the music to come.

But as much as I wanted to lose myself in this experience, I couldn’t help but be distracted by the audience around me. There was a fascinating mix of people—some tourists, some music lovers, and probably a combination of both. Next to me sat a man who, despite being there with his wife and mother-in-law, clearly had little interest in the music. He frequently checked his phone, and despite the request for no filming, several people still raised their screens, blocking or distracting my view with the glow of their devices. This was not a rock or pop concert where filming has become the norm; this was a quiet, intimate performance in a church, a place of worship where one would expect more respect for both the performers and the environment.

What struck me most was how much this detracted from the experience. Phones were being dropped, coats rustled as they were put on and taken off, and every little sound—whether it was velcro being pulled or people shifting in their seats—felt like an intrusion. For someone like me, with social anxiety and ASD, these small distractions become overwhelming. I found myself closing my eyes at times, hoping to focus purely on the music. But even then, I was met with another layer of disillusionment—the sound of the harpsichord and other instruments being amplified through a PA system. What should have been a purely acoustic experience was instead mediated through microphones and speakers, taking away some of the natural beauty of the performance.

This brings me to an important point about the notion of “liveness” in performance. Even in a space as magnificent as Karlskirche, the sound I was hearing wasn’t truly “live.” It was being electronically amplified, the vibrations hitting my eardrums created not by natural resonance but by a copper magnet in a speaker. It challenges the idea that live, in-person performances always deliver a purer experience than something virtual. If we’re already filtering music through electronics in these environments, how different is that from listening to music in the metaverse?

I was struck by this thought as I noticed a woman standing behind me, clearly enjoying the performance as much as I was. Like me, she had come alone, and in that moment, I felt a connection with her—knowing that we were there for the same reason, to be immersed in the music itself. This shared, yet isolated, enjoyment reminded me why I believe so strongly in creating musical experiences in virtual spaces like Fortnite.

For those of us who find live performances in physical spaces challenging—whether due to anxiety, neurodiversity, or simply the modern-day lack of concert etiquette—virtual platforms offer a new frontier. They allow us to engage with music in a way that is immersive, without the distractions of the real world. You can control your environment, eliminate interruptions, and fully appreciate the art for what it is.

I know many people argue that nothing compares to the live, in-person experience. But I’d argue that for some, the metaverse can offer a richer, more focused experience, where the music itself takes centre stage without the distractions of a restless audience. In a world where attention spans seem to be shrinking and etiquette at performances is often lacking, the metaverse offers a space to truly listen - to be fully present with the art.

And that’s why we’re bringing concerts to Fortnite. For those who want to be fully immersed in music, free from the distractions of the outside world, the metaverse is not just an alternative; it’s an opportunity to engage with art in a deeper, more meaningful way.