London 2012 Olympics: Games exhibitiion at Royal Opera House stripped of politics, pain and controversy These are obvious choices in an exhibition where people were selected for their inspirational qualities by a committee which included representatives of BP, the sponsors, the Opera House, the Olympic Museum and athletes such as gold medallist Jonathan Edwards. But their stories are not always told in full. Politics and controversy are notable by their absence. This reveals itself most strongly in the treatment of Jesse Owens, the great black American athlete who won four track and field golds at the 1936 Berlin Olympics intended to reveal the supremacy of the Aryan race. Hitler and the context of the Games are simply not mentioned. Instead, the display concentrates on Owens's friendship with the German long jumper Luz Long. It was the latter's advice that helped Owens qualify and ultimately beat Long to the gold medal. Before Long was killed when the Allies invaded Sicily, he wrote to Owens asking him to tell his son "how things can be between men on this earth." Now this is all moving stuff, and it honours Owens's own contention that his friendship with Long was his greatest reward from Berlin. But it is, to me, astonishing that Hitler does not rate a single word. In the same way, although Olga Korbut's smiling face shines out, there is no mention of the massacre caused by Palestinian terrorists at the 1972 Munich Games in which she first won hearts. Deborah Bull, creative director of the Royal Opera House, said the exhibition was "intended to be a theatrical experience about the human drama of sport, rather than the history of sport." She added: "The stories we wanted to tell are about the triumph of the human spirit and human relations. We're not seeking to tell the entire history of the Games. But the inclusions, as well as the omissions, amount to a view of the Olympics that emphasises the ideals of Pierre de Courbertin, who saw the modern games as a beacon of peace and tolerance in a difficult world. So when Cathy Freeman remembers her gold medal in Sydney, she talks about her pride in a victory lap wreathed in both the Australian and the Aboriginal flags. Another film features Derartu Tulu, who took gold for Ethiopia in the 10,000 metres in 1992 in Barcelona, for her victory lap with the white South African silver medallists, Elana Meyer - a gesture which is seen as symbolising a united, post-apartheid South Africa. Such choices are not neutral: they are making their own particular points. I loved the stories and am sure the exhibition will be popular. But it is also a reminder that Olympic history is always, invariably, and however hard you try to avoid it, political.