As Ted Pappas starts his eighth season steering Pittsburgh's theatrical flagship, the Pittsburgh Public Theater, he will set a record. Of the 16 actors in the cast of Shakespeare's knock-about farce, "The Comedy of Errors," 14 are Pittsburghers.

That's 88 percent, surely the high-water mark -- excepting only the 100 percent Pittsburgh cast of "The Chief," but that's a special case -- for a theater that historically has had an ambivalent relationship with Pittsburgh's professional acting pool.

"It's extraordinary!" says Pappas. Indeed, it's remarkable enough to pose the question: Does 88 percent mark the growth and maturity of that acting pool or the growth of Pappas' appreciation of it?

The answer turns out to be both, but it's not as simple as that.

First a word about "Comedy of Errors," which starts previews tonight. This is the Bard's early comedy of confused identities, in which two sets of identical male twins -- one set destined to grow up as servants to the other -- are separated as children by a shipwreck. All end up in Ephesus, true to its Biblical reputation a city of mystery, and comic confusion and cross-purposes ensue.

Pappas has commissioned a very witty, colorful set by James Noone (I sneaked a peek, for which I was quickly ushered out -- the Public likes to control its surprises) that places the action not in the ancient Aegean world but in an ethnic neighborhood in something like 20th-century New York.

But comedy is mostly about the actors, and Pappas says it was the availability of three that convinced him "Comedy of Errors" was the play to do. The light bulb went off last year when he and they were doing an entirely different classic set in the ancient world, "Oedipus the King." Helena Ruoti was playing the tragic Jocasta, and Pappas decided he wanted to showcase her comic skills. Meanwhile, Darren Eliker and Doug Mertz, tall actors of about the same age and build, suddenly began looking like twins.

Presto, he cast Eliker and Mertz as the twin masters and Ruoti as the wife of the Ephesian one, if she can figure out which he is. "You don't do 'Comedy' unless you have at least one pair of twins in your pocket," Pappas says.

Then came auditions, first here, then New York, then here again. For the rest of the people of Ephesus, Pappas wanted "a varied company, more like 'Saturday Night Live' than anything else. Except for the sets of twins, I didn't want anyone looking like anyone else."

Variety, he says, is the strength of the Pittsburgh acting pool. He found everything he wanted here except the twin servants, "because I needed a matched set," suggesting that the Pittsburgh pool isn't as deep as it is broad.

Pappas always has employed more local actors than his Public predecessors, Ben Shaktman, Larry Arrick, Bill Gardner or Eddie Gilbert. "One reason I moved here is I knew there was a lot of talent to work with," from having directed musicals here during the Gilbert years.

He signaled this in his first show as artistic director, "You Can't Take It With You" (2000), when he used 13 Pittsburghers out of 20. Then in "Oedpius," he hit 81 percent with 13 out of 16.

Pappas doesn't always get credit for this among Pittsburgh actors, because of the Public's history. In the earliest years under Shaktman, local actors were actively discouraged, because Shaktman was determined to convince moneyed Pittsburgh that this was a national theater, not another version of the Pittsburgh Playhouse. He hired a few Pittsburghers, notably Tom Atkins, who had made a national name. But once, when he wanted to hire one young actor, he told him to go to New York to audition for the guest director, and because there was no money for the trip, nothing came of it.

"I have a philosophy," Pappas says, "that the arts scene should reflect the city," and he cites many local actors he's used in addition to the 14 in "Comedy."

Some will assume there's a financial saving in hiring locally, but Pappas says the costs are not that different. "I'm paying for the [Public's] housing, anyway. I might save a little on that and transportation, but not enough to decide who's on stage. There are other ways to save money than on actors. That's strictly an artistic decision."

He admits his knowledge of the local pool has grown. In 1994, when he limited Pittsburghers to the chorus in "50 Million Frenchmen," it was because "I didn't know people yet." Since he's been hiring here, he's gradually "gotten to know more actors and appreciate their humor on stage -- and off."

Pappas says using so many local actors pays dividends. "They know each other and have a history of shared plays, benefits, travel, social life and chemistry. ... My theory of directing is I just want to make sure everyone's in the same show. If you start with people with a history together, it's like a family reunion. ... I never had to take them all to a ballgame or have a movie night -- I saved a fortune on pizza!"

Pappas notes that "Comedy" requires "finding the balance between hilarity and ... the play's heart, the reunion of a family." The preponderance of Pittsburghers means the production was halfway there to start.

When it's suggested that the takeoff in the professional acting pool came when medium-sized companies such as Quantum, PICT and Playhouse Rep joined the Public and City, Pappas says that doesn't credit the Public's key role as the flagship. "You have to be willing to look [at local actors] but also to cast," and the Public's willingness to cast locally has given the pool greater visibility.

Pappas also credits the support of local colleges, where teaching provides a large part of many actors' income.

Against the benefits of casting locally, there is a question whether audiences prefer seeing new actors to seeing familiar actors stretched in new ways. Pappas emphasizes the latter. "Actors have the gift of transformation. That's why I wanted to bring Helena back as a housewife on the edge. Part of the fun is coming up with plays to take actors into different areas."

The dilemma would be if the pool were static. An arts scene grows in varied ways, sometimes within itself, sometimes by importing new people and ideas. The trick, says Pappas, is to "wow audiences with transformation and keep the pool growing.

"I'm looking to expand this family. People are moving to Pittsburgh because they want a career in the arts. ... I happen to think this is a huge national story. You're not limited by the Pittsburgh pool. Your horizons are expanded by the talent available."