Aesthetic consciousness - the capacity to abstract the aesthetic component in all perception, so as to view everything “aesthetically” - also implies, Gadamer argues, a particular notion of simultaneity. Because it abstracts the aesthetic value of the work, and downplays or ignores all other aspects of an aesthetic object, the work is removed from its place in the world, its relation to the artist, its location in a tradition of art. It is valued only for itself, not as an item in a context.

This is different from the unavoidable simultaneity of architecture; we don’t tear down decade- or century-old buildings when we build a new one. Buildings of different eras occupy the same street, square, campus. But the simultaneity of aesthetic consciousness depends on “consciousness of historical relativity of taste.” What matters for aesthetic experience is not the particular style or the taste exhibited by works of earlier ages. What matters is the work’s aesthetic dimension, and particularly its intention to be aesthetic rather than practical.

Aesthetic consciousness is embodied in a number of modern cultural institutions: “the ‘universal library’ in the sphere of literature, the museum, the theater, the concert hall, etc.”

Museums, for instance, are unlike earlier, private collections of art. An artistic patron of earlier ages would collect works that suited his own personal tastes and reflected the interests and styles of a particular artistic school. But “a museum . . . is a collection of such collections and characteristically finds its perfection in concealing the fact that it grew out of such collections, either by historically rearranging the whole or by expanding it to be as comprehensive as possible.” Museums are not the only agents for the simultaneity: “Even art forms such as architecture that seem opposed to it are drawn into the simultaneity of aesthetic experience, either through the modern techniques of reproduction, which turns buildings into pictures, or through modern tourism, which turns travelling into browsing through picture books.”

Museums, then, are not expressions of what the museum owners consider the most commendable works, as a private collection might be an expression of individual taste. Museums express the relativism of taste - the changing codes of aesthetic value through time, offered to a cultivated viewer who is condescendingly accepting of primitive work. If this is true, then the museum is at war with itself: A temple of the religion of art, its inner structure undermines its commitment to the superiority of high culture. Contrary to the frantic modernists who are still with us, the turn of museums toward pop and concept art is not a challenge to the purpose of the museum, but perfectly consistent with the museum’s alliance with aesthetic consciousness.