The Guggenheim's collection is one that has a rich and interesting history, one that encompasses a multitude of art movements, artists, narratives, and more. The museum differs in how it displays the artwork. Rather than organizing the collection into departments dedicated to specific mediums or movements, the collection is "conceived as an integrated whole that may be continuously enhanced in response to emerging talent as well as a mandate to fill in critical historical gaps". This philosophy closely relates to the dilemma regarding collection and exhibition during the late twentieth century. As Macdonald explains, questions arose regarding the legitimacy of existing classificatory categories for organizing museums, as well as the educational role of collections in the museum. The questions of legitimacy came as a response to challenges to "the canon" and "an overwhelming 'information glut'", making it difficult to decide what should and should not have a place within a collection. Museums began to question what the pedagogical value of certain collectibles were, which influenced a new era of exhibitions and displays. Exhibitions were increasingly based on narratives rather than collections, using dioramas and text panels as the structuring device. The Guggenheim museum has long been practicing this "story" based style of exhibition, placing the emphasis on the artwork's context and historical significance. Some of these exhibitions include the Guggenheim's yearly "A Year with Children" exhibit, "Gillian Wearing: Wearing Masks", and "Nick Cave: Forothermore".

The origins of the Guggenheim's collection inspire questions regarding the differences between individual and museum collecting practices. There are numerous analyses regarding the practice of personal collecting, the most popular, a psychoanalytic perspective that "understands collecting as a result of childhood experience, especially sexual experience or its repression, and thus as an expression of either sublimated need or pathology" (Macdonald 89). John Forrester offers a different perspective on individual collecting, claiming that it may derive from a "response to loss, collecting as a subscription to Enlightenment ideals, and objects as both sites of memories and as a means of 'effacing the past'" (Macdonald 89). The idea that collecting is a form of individual expression is one that both of these perspectives share; it is an idea that can be applied to the private collections of the Guggenheim museum. Before they were public, each of the pieces owned by the museum once belonged to a single individual. At one time, these objects and artworks served the purpose of influencing and expressing the individual collector's identity. When a private collection becomes public, it brings up the question of who the artwork is really for. It is impossible to determine who the true owner of the work is. It can be argued that the institution owns the work, or that the private collector that originally possessed it does. Ultimately, the public and all those that experience the artwork or object are the true owners. Once a work is made public, the narrative and meaning of the object is up to the viewer. Therefore, every person is entitled to their own interpretation of the work, making it personal and owning a piece of it.

The Guggenheim's revolutionary architecture reflects the originality and modernity of the museum's collection. The collection features modern and contemporary art dating from the nineteenth century to the present day, highlighting artists from different movements, nations, and time periods. The Guggenheim is committed to showcasing new and innovative artworks that challenge the canon, a philosophy that is mirrored in the construction of the space itself. The rotunda's spiral ramp is a quarter of a mile long and climbs steadily at a three-degree incline. As visitors ascend the ramp and reach the second floor, they are greeted by the Thanhauser collection, which features impressionist, post-impressionist, and modern artworks from Degas, Manet, Van Gogh, and others. On the second floor as well is the exhibit "By Way Of: Material and Motion in the Guggenheim Collection". This exhibit explores artists' ability to evolve traditional practices outside of the studio space in response to the social and historical contexts of the artist's time. As guests move up the spiral, they encounter the Piet Mondrian exhibit, highlighting his vast, influential career. Finally, on the top floor of the museum, guests arrive at the exhibit "Harmony and Dissonance: Orphism in Paris, 1910-1930". The museum organizes its collection by art movements, such as Orphism, but more importantly, the institution creates exhibitions that highlight important historical movements and the art that was born from those movements. This way of organizing the collection reflects the Guggenheim's mission as a museum and educational site. The museum is committed to furthering the understanding of modern and contemporary art, and through the classifications of the collection, visitors are able to associate artworks with important social and historical contexts.

As explained by Carol Duncan and Alan Wallach in "The Universal Survey Museum", "museums embody and make visible the idea of the state" through display of artworks as well as the use of Roman-derived architecture. The museum stands as a symbol of the state, and by entering the space and engaging with it, visitors "enact a ritual that equates state authority with the idea of civilization" (47). This type of representation of the state can be seen in the Greco-Roman architecture of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, as well as the display and organization of their collection. The Guggenheim is interesting though, because there is little if any ties to the state or the nation; at the least, there are very few obvious allusions to the state. As mentioned, the museum features unique, organic architecture that stands apart from the traditional Roman architecture of other museums. At the same time, the Guggenheim's collection is so closely associated with the private collectors, it is near impossible to divorce the museum from the individuals who created it. The collections, often named after those who donated them, such as the Thannhauser collection, are associated so heavily with their private collectors that there is no room for connection to the state. The museum's name itself makes it difficult to imagine anyone other than Solomon himself when thinking of the museum. It is the names attached to the collection, the modern architecture, and organization of the collection that removes the Guggenheim from the notion of the state.

Duncan examines the phenomenon of the museum as a ritual in her writing, claiming that the museum "prompts visitors to enact a performance of some kind, whether or not actual visitors would describe it as such" (Duncan, 2). The ritual is enacted through both the museum's architecture, as well as the way the collection is organized throughout the building. Without even realizing it, visitors are taken on a curated experience, moving through the museum in a particular way that reflects the values and beliefs of the institution. Museums have long participated in the tradition of borrowing architectural forms from ceremonial structures of the past, using Greco-Roman styles, grand entrances, etc. This provides the museum with a sense of authority to enact the ritual, "not so much because of their specific architectural references but because they, too, are settings for rituals" (Duncan 10). Like other ritual spaces, the museum is "carefully marked off and culturally designated as reserved for a special quality of attention" (Duncan 10). This "attention" is expected of visitors, particularly when examining museums as sites of knowledge. The architecture and organization of the museum are crucial to the ritual, but there is another aspect of the museum that allows visitors to enter this "ritual" space. Museums are often viewed as liminal spaces, in which visitors enter a "mode of consciousness outside of or 'betwixt-and-between the normal'" (Duncan 11). This liminality allows patrons to remove themselves from the outside world and completely immerse oneself into the "universe" of the museum.

The Solomon R. Guggenheim museum enacts this ritual in a way that differs from most other museums. The museum's unique architecture provides visitors with only one path to take, ensuring that everyone participates in the curated experience the museum has created. The museum features an upwards spiral ramp, which visitors take all the way to the top, stopping to view exhibitions on each floor of the museum. At the top of the museum is a large, bright skylight, representing, quite literally, the Enlightenment ideals that modern museums abide by. The visitors ritualistic experience begins on the first second floor with the Thannhauser collection, impressionist, post-impressionist, and modern French artworks from artists like Degas, Manet, and Van Gogh. By beginning with the acclaimed works, the museum establishes its power as an educational and aesthetic institution by displaying its most famous and notable pieces first. As visitors continue up the ramp they are met with exhibitions that are constantly changing and evolving. Upon entering the Guggenheim, visitors encounter a different environment than with other museums. The exciting architecture and display of the collection changes the expectations of behavior for visitors. Rather than a strict set of unspoken rules, patrons enjoy a more relaxed and playful experience in the museum.

The Guggenheim does not have any period rooms, and it never has. Architecturally, they would not fit within the limits and aesthetics of the building itself. More importantly, the Guggenheim is committed to highlighting a different history than the Met. Rather than focusing on America's history as a nation, the Guggenheim represents the history and evolution of modern art across cultures. Currently on view at the Guggenheim are a multitude of artists from different movements, time periods, and cultures. Works by Degas, Manet, Picasso, Braques, Delauney, and other pioneers in the modern art movement have claimed a permanent spot in the museum. What is more important though, are the marginalized artists the Guggenheim exhibit. The museum's newest exhibit, "Beatriz Milhazes: Rigor & Beauty" features the works of Milhazes, a Brazilian artists who juxtaposes Brazilian cultural imagery with references to Western Modern painting. Milhazes' works create conversation around the historical narratives that museums create, and how artists like herself can challenge the dominant Western narrative. While there is no perfect museum, and there is still work to be done, the Guggenheim prioritizes a contemporary narrative that focuses on diversity and inclusion.

Western museums have justified their looting of cultural objects by claiming that they are a "contribution to the culture of the world" and that they "protect that object and make it available to people who will benefit from experiencing it" (Appiah 122). Large museums have long claimed that by putting these objects on display, a wider range of people will see it and learn from it. However, the people of the culture the objects belong to, seldom get to experience that themselves. As seen in the film "Dahomey", the people of Benin never got to learn and see their own cultural objects, because they were placed in Western museums. The idea that Western museums know better what to do with cultural objects than the people of that culture, is a racist and colonialist view that prevents an entire group of people from education themselves on their own histories.

The Guggenheim museum differs from other Western institutions, because its collection is made up of a group of previously private collections. These collections, owned by Solomon R. Guggenheim, Peggy Guggenheim, Justin K. Thannhauser, and others, include modern artworks across different mediums such as painting, drawing, sculpture, and more. Because the Guggenheim is an entirely contemporary museum, artists from different cultures have the power and authority to decide whether or not their artwork should reside in the museum. In addition, artists that are no longer living, such as Picasso and Manet, either sold or donated their artworks, knowing the contexts it would be placed in, a museum. Unlike the Met, the Guggenheim does not feature any objects in the collection that have been looted from countries that had no say in it. Instead, the museum features works from artists across different national and cultural backgrounds, providing a space for different cultures to be on display without a colonialist narrative attached to it.

Western museums are reliant on one system of knowledge, which is the Western one, ignoring any other practices. By neglecting other schools of though, Western museology has been an "apparatus for producing knowledge about and exercising power over the curation an preservation of cultural materials" (Kreps 459). In an effort to "liberate culture" from a singular Western system, patrons and professionals use comparative museology, which studies the similarities and differences between museological forms across cultures. By comparing culturally different museums and their behaviors, Western ideas and practices can be expanded upon. One way in which Indigenous and Western museums differ is in the nature of their collections. Indigenous museums are committed to collecting and preserving objects within their own communities, and those that continue to serve their original purpose. In contrast, objects in Western museums have been removed from original communities and no longer serve their original functions. Accessibility and questions surrounding the public domain is another area in which the Indigenous and Western museums contrast in their ideology. In Indigenous and traditional cultures, access to museums and forms of such is restricted to a select group of people; this could be males, priests, village leaders, etc. The Western museum, however, is considered to be a public entity. Western museums claim that "public access and the dissemination of knowledge have become their primary aims" , thus Indigenous methods of access are disqualified in Western museology (464). The employment of comparative museology allows for a more diverse and ethical approach to museum practice.

Kreps concluded her essay with the importance of implementing a "cross-cultural approach to curation" (469). This approach views curation as a social and political act, one that takes into consideration a people's relationship to an object. This method is about "cultivating harmonious relationships directed toward redressing historical wrongs, and showing respect for divers worldviews and belief systems" (469). A cross-cultural curation prioritizes the inclusion of multiple forms of knowledge, and the sharing of curatorial authority over the object. Studies of non-Western models promote broader exploration and inquiry into museology and the museum's functions. The Guggenheim museum follows a very modern, Western museology; for example, the curation, collection, conservation, and public access. The architecture of the Guggenheim follows a modern aesthetic, this continues on the inside where the curation follows the "white cube" trend common in Western museums. The collection of the museum itself in inherently modern and Western, featuring many works by Picasso, Kandinsky, and other modernist icons. While the Guggenheim is a perfect model of the modern Western museum, the institution has made conscious efforts to practice the decolonization of the museum. The Guggenheim prioritizes the conservation of cultural objects and art across all four of its locations. Because the museum is a modern one, the museum can communicate with the living artists to ensure the works are being properly preserved and handled. Though the museum has made strides in decolonizing the Western museum, there is still work to be done. For example, when cultural works are shown, they are taken out of their original contexts. By using a cross-cultural curatorial approach and putting the works in their proper cultural contexts, the museum would be engaging more ethically and sustainably with Indigenous methods.

Artists who do not agree with the corporate sponsor's politics have the power to withdraw their work from the museum, or actively protest The poor actions of a sponsor calls into the morals and ethics of the museum who it is partnered with. At the Whitney Biennial in 2022, several artists pulled out of the show when they discovered a member of the Whitney board was the CEO of a company that produced tear gas used against protestors. Similarly, a protest theatre group called "BP or not BP?", held several performance protests at the British Museum in response to the museum's partnership with British Petroleum (BP). Serafini and Garard's essay questions the "ethics of activism" through the performances, and how these modes of protest will bring the "perspectives of frontline communities into protest actions" (71). "BP or not BP" began their protest performances with a limited, white view of protest and activism. The essay examines how the group took their activism from a linear approach to a "more nuanced one that incorporates issues of colonialism and human rights into the group's core narrative" (78). This new approach still has its flaws, as white activists are still framing objects and ideas from frontline community. In order for a more ethical museum practice, curation must be used as a "strategic tool for exerting pressure on institutions and their need to be accountable" (78).

The Guggenheim has numerous corporate sponsors, with who the museum has created exhibitions both inside and outside of the museum space. The Guggenheim has worked with Bank of America, Van Cleef, COS, Lavazza and JW Marriott. Van Cleef is the sponsor for the Poet-in-Residence program at the Guggenheim, while all of the other corporations sponsored exhibitions curated by the Guggenheim. While none of these sponsorships have ever garnered strong protest, the museum's ties to the Sackler family caused staged protests at the New York location in 2021. The Sackler family owns Purdue Pharma, the marketers of OxyContin. In 2001 the family donated the Sackler Center for Arts Education to the museum, which included multimedia labs and lecture halls. Protests dropped flyers that looked like prescriptions from all floors of the Guggenheim, in an effort to bring awareness to the Sackler's role in the opioid crisis. The museum itself has taken on the role of a corporate entity as Rectanus explains on The Green Dreamer podcast. Many large global museums have adopted the corporate business model, expanding their empire and operating under corporate logic. The Guggenheim is credited as a perfect example, "it's frequently cites as a corporate clone or global museum that's franchised itself and generated some revenue through that" (Rectanus). Through it's global expansion to Venice, Bilbao, New York, and now Abu Dhabi, the Guggenheim has functioned as both a museum and a corporation since its opening.