When people think of the Puskás Arena, the first thing that comes to mind is not music but sport – and not by chance. This building was not built for the concert experience, but as a national symbol, a stadium, serving a representative purpose. However, the reality of the contemporary music industry and Budapest’s international ambitions have meant that Puskás has also become a concert venue – at least occasionally. And while it undoubtedly offers a prestigious setting, the question around which all concert rotations revolve time and time again is: is it possible to create a musical event of real emotional depth in such a space? Or is it all just spectacle and decibels?
Let’s start with a sobering fact: the size of the Puskás Arena is exceptional not only in Hungary but also in Central Europe. With a capacity of over 65,000 people in the stands and on the pitch, it is a unique opportunity for even the biggest stars to perform in front of such a crowd. The physical presence of the stadium is overwhelming: colossal arches, clean lines, monumental interior. But that’s exactly what makes it the first challenge from a concert perspective.
Because music is not just about making it. Music is also a vibration in space and time – sound not only penetrates, but is also reflected, dispersed, distorted. And the acoustics in Puskus, however much they try to control them, are simply not designed for music. Sound can be controlled, but not tamed. Standing in the arena, you can still have an acceptable experience – if you choose a lucky seat – but in the upper stands, in the furthest reaches of the stadium, the concert is more like an „echoed recording session” than a real presence.
And then there is the spectacle. It’s impressive, of course. The world stars who come here – whether it’s Rammstein, Ed Sheeran or Depeche Mode – come with a professional show, tons of technicians, dozens of technicians. The world of projectors, pyrotechnics, lights and drones all work to obscure the fundamental fact: the stadium is too big for anything on a human scale. Only the chorus that fills the stadium – when 60,000 people sing at the same time – can conjure up the collective power that can really make the air shake.
But this energy is rare and fragile. Because Puskás is not a club. It is not a festival. It is not an arena in the classical sense. A stadium concert is a different genre: a mass cultural ritual where the mere fact of being there – „I was there” – becomes the main message of the experience. People do not necessarily come to rediscover the depths of a band. But because it is „the” concert. Where you have to be there. Where you can post. Where status is earned.
From a technical point of view, the organisation has so far passed the test relatively well: access – albeit slow – is controlled; the stadium infrastructure (toilets, canteens, exits) can cope with the load. But the concert experience always comes at a price. In this case, the price is distance, a compromise between sound quality and a lack of emotional immediacy. Performers, however professional, cannot make a real connection with each and every audience member. Eye contact exists only on the screen. Gestures become giant distorted, choreographed movements.
The transformation of the Puskás Arena into a concert stage is therefore both a triumph and an illusion. A triumph, because Budapest has really put itself on the map of world tours. An illusion, because the concert experiences born here are not necessarily about the music, but rather about the status of the event. And that’s fine – if you know what you’re buying tickets for. If you don’t expect an intimate atmosphere, just a gigantic experience, if you don’t want to get close, just to be present, the Puskás Arena delivers exactly what it promises: a monumental, unforgettable memory.
