You don't hear - or even see - these mime artists until after their performance, but they still manage to make a connection with the audience, writes Michael Seaver

You appeared on Broadway for a bet? "Yes, a bet," says Mummenschanz co-founder Floriana Frassetto, full of intrigue and mischief. After a successful performance in New York's Lincoln Centre, a Texan millionaire approached the company and offered to bring their show to Broadway. "I think he must have had an accident or something," she continues diplomatically, "because we didn't hear from him again." So along with Bernie Schuerch and Andreas Bosshard they made a bet that they would do it themselves. Walking around Broadway, they picked a theatre, rang their agent to arrange a contract and performed there for three years. The episode sums up the quiet ambition and idealism behind the company.

Schuerch and Bosshard graduated from the Lecoq School for Theatre and Movement in Paris politically charged by the student riots in 1968.

They gathered bits of garbage and waste material to create a form of theatre where objects interacted like humans. Free from speech or music, their performances criticised the non-communicability of mankind. The message was simple: if we can understand what is going on between two blobs of foam that move about onstage, why can't we understand fellow humans?

"I had come from a very traditional mime school and was looking for an opportunity to work more with objects and improvise," says Frassetto. "So the three of us decided to pursue this language together. They had already invented a mask that could transform from a happy face to a sad face as quickly as speech, and so we tried to extend that to the rest of our body. Your butt could become a head and your head become a tail."

Although born of political idealism, the simplicity of their medium has never been under threat. There's no rhetoric, and the collection of 20-odd vignettes that make up each show tell universal stories. Performing in silence awakens an emotional response from the audience.

"You realise that mankind feels this emotion in the same manner," Frassetto says. "Of course audiences are different. The Chinese don't dare to laugh too loud, whereas the Germans start off analysing everything but are laughing and shouting 'Bravo!' by the end. Wherever we are, family audiences - aged from six to 96 - are perfect. The more mixed the generations the better. That giggling six year-old child will help the uptight 50-year-old businessman to unwind. Over the years we have become such fast consumers that a little quietness and mystic emotionality is welcome."

Frassetto particularly enjoyed New York audiences where everyone sat back and became a child for 90 minutes. In spite of some television appearances, business was slow for the first three weeks of their Broadway debut with quarter to half-full houses. Then during the final week - a week before Easter - business picked up, and within days they were booked out for six months. As the run was extended through the months, new performers had to be found, not only to relieve an exhausted original cast, but to keep the show running while they returned to Europe to fulfil previously booked engagements. That three-year stint on Broadway has never been equalled by a silent theatre performance.

"We went back 12 years later with a new production. Theatres had become triple the price and we had to pay the musicians' union for musicians even though we didn't use music. The expenses were just terrible. We like to remain a form of family entertainment and would avoid asking for $200 a ticket, so decided to quit and come home after six months."

Shortly afterwards, tragedy stuck with the death of Bosshard. Frassetto and Schuerch were devastated, but after a year felt they could take to the road again. A new show, Mummenschanz Parade, began touring in 1993 with American performer John Charles Murphy. But they also needed to replace Bosshard's management skills, as he was the one of the three who handled administration.

"I was asked to take over the management in 1997," says current manager Hans Tobler. "I had been a supporter for many years and really believed in the power of their work. There were some difficulties with contracts and taxes in the United States and I was able to come in and sort out the problems."

Tobler also knew the company needed to take root somewhere, and so a foundation, Mummenschanz-Stiftung, was established in 1998, enabling the company to move to a new base provided by the city of St Gallen, where they live, rehearse and manage the company. They have also begun programming emerging companies that are working with a similar idiom, and in October will present a young Korean company. "They have this amazing form of movement theatre that is very creative and very new to the West."

In spite of computer technology and virtual worlds, these simple forms of theatre are flourishing. Frassetto recalls how in the 1980s the company's lawyer warned of emerging computer graphics that could draw, for example, two hands, and make them do anything. "A couple of months ago we were in Korea and there was a wonderful commercial, done with real hands, but somehow the emotion wasn't the same. When you are inside the theatre, you are physically with this hand or with this blob. You are really living with it, and breathing and suffering with it. You are it. That's a completely different experience to seeing it on a screen."

Although Mummenschanz is not overtly political, an important statement is made at the end of each show. "It's incredible when we take off the masks at the end," says Frassetto, a performer for over 35 years. "We can see jaws drop! 'Oh, my God. These oldies are still jumping about.' Because of the energy onstage people assume that the company is made up of youngsters."

Other performers have joined the company to replace the original members from time to time, but rarely stay for more than a couple of years. Frassetto understands the frustration that these interpreters might feel. "They give 300 per cent commitment to a performance, get a huge ovation, but are unrecognised in the street afterwards, because on stage they are covered up in masks and objects."

As originators of the work, performance ego doesn't matter as much to Frassetto or Schuerch, but their longevity also comes from continuing to carry both their idealism and their creative sense of fun and fascination into other parts of their life. "We have been described as visual poets, and I suppose for us poetry is hope. What else can we do in this bloody world, but hope? But working in the way we do keeps us fresh. Even when you look at a tree, you look at it in a different manner. When you are strolling in a warehouse of objects, you see everything as potential performers. We might not be physically so acrobatic, but mentally we are fitter than ever."

But there is still enough physical stamina for more touring. 3x11 is a new show celebrating the 33 years of Mummenschanz that will open in the new Sydney Theatre in Walsh Bay, before touring around Australia and South America.

"You find a corner of happiness in every country, and we always find something interesting, wherever we are. Sure the language barrier can be difficult and hotel life can be boring. And then there's the food! Everything is so complicated these days. It's impossible to have a light, simple meal. But then there's that most beautiful moment when you are in front of the audience and you start hearing a child's laughter breaking the silence. And that giggle spreads through the audience and you say to yourself, 'It's worth it being miles from home, away from my daughter and away from my cuisine!"

Mummenschanz's new show, Next, is at Dublin's O'Reilly Theatre, next Mon-Sat and Cork Opera House, Aug 18-20