Singular Short has no need of a script

The first question that arises at the prospect of comedian Martin Short sharing the stage with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra on Sunday is: What will he do? The possibilities are wide. Maybe his faux-sentimental "Al-Qaeda's Rose" - an Osama bin Laden version of "Candle in the Wind" - for symphony orchestra? A Mann Center-sized multimedia version of "Rehab," his song about Hollywood stars in recovery?

So improvisationally oriented is this Canadian-born veteran of Second City TV that he'll follow no strict script at 8 p.m. Sunday at the Mann, in an evening titled "Three Singular Sensations" with Short, composer/conductor Marvin Hamlisch, and Broadway leading man Brian Stokes Mitchell.

Short is comfortable enough in his own skin that he'll go wherever a routine might take him, unencumbered by having an orchestra in tow. In fact, he's a symphony brat: His mother was concertmaster of the Hamilton (Ontario) Philharmonic Orchestra, and he made his debut at age 9 narrating Peter and the Wolf. It seems to have been a breeze: "My mom was only 10 feet away," he recalls.

If there's a common thread from then to the current, 61-year-old Martin Short, it's the lack of fear. While some comics insist on having strictly controlled working conditions, Short embraces everyday chaos that can make his shows, on a good night, one-time-only experiences.

"Johnny Carson got some of the biggest laughs of his career when his monologue bombed," Short pointed out last week by phone from the summer home in northern Ontario where he was supervising yet another round of renovations. Like Winston Churchill, he occupies his nonprofessional hours by reconfiguring his quarters, particularly since the death of his wife, Nancy Dolman, in August; his reaction has been to keep moving even more than before. But he isn't afraid to talk about it, as he did near the end of a 40-minute interview.

Question: You've impersonated and satirized all manner of public figures. In doing so, how important is it to physically resemble them?

Answer: What you hope for is to get lost in the character. When I was doing SCTV, our tendency was to actually look like the people. But if you're doing it with too much latex, you lose your face and personality. It becomes very bland. Lots of times I'll be working with makeup people and decide, no, I won't wear that wig. Remember when Chevy Chase used to do Gerald Ford? He didn't look like him at all.

Q: When you do your Three Amigos number - one of several set pieces scheduled for Sunday - you'll be asking audience members to participate. Do you know what you're in for? This is Philadelphia, you know.

A: It's true that somebody might slug you. Somebody might be drunk. . . . But the more you're relaxed, the more you're having fun.

Q: When I interviewed Jackie Mason years ago, I observed that he skewers every special-interest group except gays. He answered that gays have it hard - it was the 1980s during the AIDS crisis - and left them alone. What's off-limits to you? I noticed during your "Rehab" song on Dave Letterman's show in January, Lindsay Lohan was conspicuously absent.

A: When somebody is going through hell, it just isn't appropriate. I don't remember why we left her out . . . but it takes finesse to know how far to go. . . . Being mean is easy. I want to aim a little higher than that.

Q: This age of political correctness has been hard on comedians. Is it getting any better?

A: Shows like South Park and Arrested Development are what you heard people talking about the next day, and those are the ones that pushed the boundaries of that. I know that when I was doing my [Broadway] show Fame Becomes Me, we did a section called "The Second Greatest Story Ever Told" in which I played the stepbrother to Jesus. It was all silly. It was the biggest laughs of the evening. Yet some people walked out offended.

Q: Were you taken aback?

A: I'm not doing this just for the admiration of strangers. I'm not a clown crying on the inside. Some people love Jerry Seinfeld, some people can't stand him. That doesn't make anybody wrong. Or mean that Seinfeld needs to go into hiding. Especially in comedy, there are times when people just don't connect.

Q: During one of Barbra Streisand's tours, she had a George W. Bush impersonator, and as the tour went on that part of the show was toned down. What do you think about that? Is political humor different?

A: That's a riskier situation. I don't know what Jay Leno's political leanings are. And I don't know what Johnny Carson's were. They're playing to everybody. Even Bob Hope, a well-known political conservative, made equal fun of Nixon and Kennedy.

Q: Life is now more polarized.

A: Yes, for some people, Bush could've set fire to the Oval Office and people would've said he's great.

Q: Has the death of your wife, Nancy, affected your art?

A: I'm sure that everything affects your art. In my case, I found myself working more. That's normality for me. Nancy and I were together for 36 years. And now when I'm on an airplane and there's turbulence, I think, "Go ahead. I don't care. I'm not so afraid of this anymore."

I think that fearlessness comes from understanding what life is. We all live in denial that we're going to die. I was young when my parents died, and I think it made me more fearless. I'll stick my neck out. . . . I just learned this lesson early in life.

Q: Has Nancy's death had a more direct creative impact?

A: I've never been one to bring my personal life into my work. At the end of the day, I'm an entertainer. I've done a lot of writing on that subject, but it's for me.