By Elizabeth Widel   Chronicle staff

     A return engagement by the Bottom Line Duo reinforced the original experience of two people who play superbly and whose delightful personalities put an extra shine on their performance.
     Traci Hoveskeland, cello, and Spencer Hoveskeland, bass, both are consummate performers on their deep—voiced instruments, and do it with a humor and good cheer which enhance the whole experience.
     In their opening number, Lazarro's "Roman Guitar," the bassist bowed and plucked the bass strings simultaneously, and he also played the bass like a harp.
     There was constant eye contact with his wife, and the two instruments were in perfect ensemble throughout.
     In Rodgers' "Blue Moon," there was rhythm from the cello while the bass ranged to notes below the floor.
     There was a long bass break, and at times a dancing bow as he played.
     A "Hungarian Rhapsody," by David Popper, ranged from moody slow to fiery fast, and Spencer Hoveskeland played like an orchestra, with the two performers again in perfect ensemble.
     The first movement of Bach's Brandenburg Concerto (No. 4, I think) is characterized in the notes on the recording I have of it as "a very lively affair," and so it was.
     This was followed by one titled "Brahms Kugel," with Hoveskeland listed as the composer. It was Brahms mixed with something else. "Pepper's Waltz," by the same writer, was written for his dog, Pepper.
    Then came a spoof of the "Largo al Factotum" from the opera "Barber of Seville." In the opera this is a fine bit of braggadocio by a baritone as he boasts of how he manages other people's affairs.
     Here the performers were playing games as well as the music, as there was some unscheduled ad libbing by the bass. How did Traci Hoveskeland know when to come in? Somehow she did.

     Following the intermission came some hijinks based, sort of, on the Habanera from the opera "Carmen." The composer was listed on the program as Francois Bizet, but the writer of Carmen was named Georges.
     Somewhere along the line a bit of Rossini and a bit of the Brahms' "Lullaby" sneaked in, but neither of their first names was Francois. This was just part of the high spirits which obtained merrily throughout the program.
     A piece called "Contrabajissimo," by Piazzolla, followed. This may have been atonal (outside of a key) in spots, but there was a lovely little air on the cello later.
     "Morenita Santa," by Sameron, was done seriously in memory of a friend and had certain Latino traits.
     "Viva Tlapehuala," by Juan Reynoso, brought the story of an old man dictating the music he knew for its preservation — more than 1,000 pieces. "Bambino Nuevo" was sounds of their son, written by his father.
     Spencer Hoveskeland related the plot of the opera "Tsar Saltan" (Rimsky—Korsakov) in a hilarious sequence. Often when a performer attempts to recite an opera's plot, the thing turns deadly, but with Hoveskeland it was a merry (mercifully brief!) affair involving an insect, which led up to a breakneck rendition of "The Flight of the Bumblebee."
     There were some side excursions in this one, up to and including a snatch from "Yankee Doodle," and then it was over.
     The audience was seated in an arc of chairs on the stage close to the performers so that Spencer Hoveskeland's light—hearted patter could be easily heard.
     He was enjoying being with us and playing for us, and there must have been some unexpected inclusions, for at times his wife burst into delighted laughter over what he said. So did we.
     I have emphasized the light—heartedness of their presentation, but there was nothing light about the quality of their playing. Both are sterling performers, producing a smooth, golden tone and making use of the instruments as we have not seen before.
     When Spencer Hoveskeland dropped his bow and played the strings barehanded as though this were a differently—shaped harp, he showed things we had never seen (or heard) before on the stringed bass.
     Every note of the concert was done from memory.
     There wasn't an iota of stuffiness about anything they did, and the good spirits were wrapped around some exceedingly fine playing of the two instruments.
     Bravo!