A concert inside a game has an unusual advantage: the stage does not need to stay where it is. The audience, the performer and the environment can all move according to the same piece of music.
Epic's announcement of Ariana Grande's Rift Tour describes a shared journey through Fortnite, scheduled across several performances in August. That framing is useful. It suggests an event composed as movement through scenes, rather than a video projected onto a virtual wall.
I am interested in the level-design problem underneath it. A game usually lets the player choose where to look and what to do next. A musical performance needs timing. The designer has to preserve enough control for the player to feel present while arranging the experience so that important moments remain legible.
Scale is one of the available instruments. A performer can become enormous, an ordinary space can expand, and the camera can move through arrangements that would be impossible in a physical venue. Those changes can express the structure of the music without requiring the audience to understand a new interaction each time.
The transitions may be even more important than the individual scenes. A film can cut abruptly because the viewer expects the camera to be controlled. In a game, an abrupt relocation can feel like a loss of control. Movement, a portal, a change in gravity or a guided path can give the transition a physical logic within the experience.
There is a balance to strike with participation. A small action can make the audience feel involved. A demanding task can pull attention away from the music. I would want the interaction to follow the rhythm of the event, with room for watching as well as acting. Nobody should need to study a complicated rule at the exact moment the performance asks for their attention.
Friends change the experience too. Seeing another player nearby gives a social reference that a conventional recording cannot provide. But keeping people together is a design choice. If a route scatters the group or a camera sequence hides everyone else, the event can lose some of what made the shared session attractive.
The scheduled start contributes to that shared feeling. The same digital material could be viewed at any time, yet a specific performance creates anticipation and a common occasion. The software must then handle the less glamorous parts of an occasion: arrival, waiting, clear instructions and a graceful ending.
I would assess an event like this on two levels. Does the sequence work as a musical composition? And does being inside it add something that a recording cannot carry? Spectacle alone can answer the first while leaving the second unresolved.
The strongest possibility is a performance where movement and companionship become part of how the music is experienced. That gives the game engine a clear artistic role, rather than making it an expensive replacement for a video player.