COMMENTARY : The Board, Arpino and the Turmoil at the Joffrey : Ballet: The bicoastal company ends its local season Sunday night at the Pavilion. Gerald Arpino wrestled with the board and the artist won. But what of the business end?

The Joffrey Ballet ends its local season at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion on Sunday night, probably with a general sigh of relief and a communal gasp. If all goes as planned, the final offering on this valedictory program will be unintentionally symbolic: Gerald Arpino’s popular celebration of peace and joy, “Trinity.”

Therein lies a sad and difficult tale. Therein lie a number of sad and difficult tales.

This was the season that almost wasn’t. This was the season that stumbled onward, much of the time, without the core of the Joffrey repertory: the ballets of Gerald Arpino. This was the season that had to be improvised, much of the time, without the involvement of the artistic director: Gerald Arpino.

The drama has been well documented. A few days before the local opening, key members of the large, cumbersome, bicoastal Joffrey board attempted something of a coup. Financial disasters--some called it fiscal bungling--had found the company facing a deficit close to $2 million.

All, however, was not yet lost. Certain Samaritans would be willing to restore order if the board were reorganized along partisan lines, if administrative power were relocated and if Arpino’s powers were to be severely curtailed.

Arpino, who had founded the ever-enterprising company in conjunction with his late friend and colleague Robert Joffrey, promptly resigned. He also withdrew the ballets to which he owned performance rights. Dissension spread among the trustees. Defections loomed. Turmoil descended.

Now, after much blood, sweat, recrimination, counter-recrimination, secret negotiating, program changing, internal manipulating and managerial resignation, Arpino has returned to lead his company onward. Also, one hopes, upward.

He appears to have won the balletic battle. Still, he may lose the war. A number of questions remain unanswered.

* Who will now pay the massive Joffrey debt?

* Will David Murdock, the generous financier who had insisted on Arpino’s demotion, return to the fold?

* How will the administration be restructured?

* Will Arpino, an artist rather than a businessman, be willing to share fundamental leadership, as he had with Joffrey?

* Will the Music Center renew its contract, which expires June 30, with the Joffrey?

* Can the Joffrey survive without the Music Center?

* Can a bicoastal company really serve two coasts?

* Is the Joffrey the right company to dominate ballet at the Music Center?

* Who should actually run a ballet company, the artist or the banker?

There are no easy answers to any of these questions at this juncture. Still, certain propositions are clear.

No company can exist, especially in this day of endangered public subsidy, without a solid, independent financial base. Although the performing arts are not self-supporting, art cannot be treated like a common commercial enterprise. Los Angeles must decide how much the Joffrey is worth, and must raise funds accordingly.

Los Angeles must also decide what sort of ballet it wants to support on a permanent, ongoing basis. Everyone admires the spirit, the youth, the eclectic repertory, the historical exhumations of the Joffrey. It is a unique and valuable enterprise.

Some knowledgeable observers complain, however, that the dominance of the Joffrey company precludes other valid ballet ventures at the Music Center. These observers also note that the Joffrey repertory is very limited and that it does not necessarily breed admiration with repetition.

Traditionalists mourn the loss of such ambitious staples as “Giselle,” “The Sleeping Beauty” and “Swan Lake,” which the Joffrey cannot offer. Star fanciers lament the absence of big names on the roster. For such pleasures, the balletomane must turn to more glamorous companies.

Then there is the paradox of Arpino himself. No one denies his seminal role in the creation and sustenance of this eminently American company. His choreography--facile, often kitschy and sometimes glitzy--tends to please mass audiences, but it often irritates aficionados. Pessimists argue that, for all his positive influence backstage, Arpino cannot provide ideal aesthetic stimulation for his community.

This doesn’t matter much in New York, where the Joffrey is an adjunct to a vastly varied ballet scene. It can matter a great deal at the Music Center, where the Joffrey is the ballet scene.

The conflict between executive and artist is painfully common today. One need only invoke the scandal of the Bastille, where Pierre Berge triumphed over Daniel Barenboim, or the contretemps that saw Ernest Fleischmann conquer Andre Previn at the Los Angeles Philharmonic and Jane Hermann usurp power from Mikhail Baryshnikov at American Ballet Theater. There is no problem when the business person understands the art and the artist. There can be overwhelming problems when the business person lacks that understanding or, worse, wants to wield power for its own giddy sake.

One has to sympathize with Arpino. “This,” he said when faced with upheaval, “is like losing Bob Joffrey all over again. It is as if my whole life is wiped out in one tyrannical stroke. . . .

“It is a disaster facing all the artists in the United States. It is a question of an American artist being threatened by a hostile takeover.” He characterized his adversaries on the board as “corrupt and immoral.”

He was candid about the criticism leveled against his work. “I understand Americans, even the rednecks,” he said. “I know what can entice them into the ballet. That is what this company is about. They may like the glitz at first, and then come back for something more sophisticated.”

The immediate victims of the Joffrey debacle are the talented, young dancers. Nature allows them short careers. Employment is scarce. They are overworked and underpaid. They have performed valiantly throughout a horribly difficult season, sometimes even without the convenience of a per diem allowance. At the very least, they deserve security.

Ultimately, the dancers seem to be the only heroes here. The Joffrey board has acted hastily and, perhaps, underhandedly. The administration seems to have performed shakily.

Arpino exerts firm moral leadership, and he remains an elemental link with an idealistic past. His aesthetic principles and managerial skills, however, remain open to question.

The Joffrey Ballet still needs a stabilizing force as well as an inspiring vision. It still needs a Robert Joffrey.