Glitter, Grit, and Grace: Lauren Anderson’s ‘Jewelry Power Elite’ Returns to the Minneapolis Stage
As the Minneapolis arts community prepares for the highly anticipated Minnesota Fringe Festival—a cornerstone of the local cultural calendar—one of the city’s most seasoned performers is taking a detour from the festival’s typical frantic pace to offer something deeply personal. Lauren Anderson, a comedic force of nature with over two decades of stage experience, is reviving her acclaimed one-woman show, Jewelry Power Elite, for a limited two-weekend run at the historic Dudley Riggs Theatre.
The production, which debuted as a full-length solo work at last year’s Fringe, serves as a poignant intersection between the frivolity of high-fashion statement jewelry and the weight of contemporary social activism. For Anderson, the show is more than a performance; it is a manifesto on the intentionality of existence.
A Legacy of Laughter: The Professional Evolution of Lauren Anderson
To understand the weight of Jewelry Power Elite, one must first understand the foundation upon which it is built. A product of St. Louis Park, Anderson’s comedic sensibilities were forged in the fires of late-20th-century television, drawing heavy inspiration from the genre-bending wit of Steve Martin, the frenetic energy of Robin Williams and Chris Farley, and the legendary theatrical presence of Carol Burnett.
“I thought she [Burnett] had the coolest job in the world,” Anderson reflects. That aspiration led her to Climb Theatre, where she initially performed for young audiences, before finding her true home at the Brave New Workshop (BNW). Her tenure at BNW, beginning in 2004 and becoming a full-time endeavor by 2006, turned her into a fixture of the Minneapolis improv and sketch scene.
By 2007, Anderson had established herself as a performer of significant charisma. Her breakout monologue at the now-defunct Ivy Awards—in which she portrayed a boisterous, inebriated woman singing “Frosty the Snowman”—remains a local legend. It was a performance that highlighted her ability to command a room with nothing more than her voice and an unwavering commitment to the bit.
However, the professional landscape shifted in 2020. The pandemic-induced closure of the Brave New Workshop and the subsequent layoff of the entire cast represented the most significant interruption in Anderson’s career. Today, as the company operates under the umbrella of Hennepin Arts, Anderson navigates the industry with the flexibility of a veteran, working on a project-by-project basis that allows for the creative autonomy necessary to produce a show like Jewelry Power Elite.
The Genesis of a One-Woman Manifesto
The concept for Jewelry Power Elite was not an inevitable outcome of Anderson’s career, but rather a serendipitous spark provided by a peer. Derek “Duck” Washington, a prominent director, performer, and producer of the Twin Cities Horror Festival, had long been an admirer of Anderson’s work.
Washington vividly recalls a post-pandemic performance where Anderson showcased a solo cabaret sketch. In the bit, she riffed on the absurdity of pandemic-era survival—sourdough starters, the alienation of online dating, and the recurring realization that the world had, simply put, "got weird."
“While watching it, I was like, this could be a whole show for me,” Washington said. “I want to see Lauren do a whole one-person show.”
When he eventually proposed the idea, it was a revelation to Anderson. She began to look inward, searching for a unifying theme that could bridge the gap between her comedic background and her desire for a more vulnerable form of storytelling. The answer was already hanging in her jewelry box.
The Jewelry as a Narrative Fulcrum
The show is structured around the literal and metaphorical weight of jewelry. Anderson uses her collection of statement pieces as a chronological map of her life. Each necklace, brooch, or earring serves as an anchor for a story, turning mundane objects into vessels of memory and intent.
“The show is really kind of a manifesto for finding the thing that makes you feel intentional and gives you courage,” Anderson explains. “Jewelry is an easy way to do it because it’s an unnecessary thing. It’s deeply personal, and so by intentionally choosing deeply personal items to carry around on your body every day, you’re announcing yourself and your place in the world.”
This philosophy is heavily influenced by the late Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, who famously utilized her collection of brooches as part of her "personal diplomatic arsenal." Anderson cites this, noting that she began collecting pieces from designer Heidi Daus after reading about Albright’s strategies. One particular piece—a dove of peace brooch—now carries profound emotional resonance for Anderson, having been worn during a winter "No Kings" protest.
Bridging Comedy and Political Activism
Perhaps the most significant expansion in this year’s production is the integration of Anderson’s recent experiences as an activist. The catalyst for this shift was the death of Renee Good in Minneapolis, an event that deeply affected Anderson and her neighbors.
“I live a block away from where Renee Good was murdered, and so for me, and for most of my Minneapolis neighbors, it was hell,” Anderson notes. “One of the things that helped me live to fight another day was to brace myself and put on some protest jewelry.”
This admission highlights the core tension of the show: the balance between the "brash and hilarious" comedian the public knows and the vulnerable citizen grappling with the volatility of the modern era. For fans accustomed to the rapid-fire sketch comedy of the Brave New Workshop, Jewelry Power Elite offers a surprising, yet welcome, pivot toward drama.
Implications for the Local Theater Scene
The revival of Jewelry Power Elite arrives at a time when the Minneapolis theater scene is recalibrating after years of institutional upheaval. By moving beyond the troupe-based model that defined her early career, Anderson is participating in a larger trend of independent, solo-driven performance that prioritizes individual voice over collective brand identity.
Her ability to oscillate between humor and vulnerability is a testament to her longevity. “I’m a seasoned enough performer that I could be vulnerable onstage and not have that be a terrifying experience,” she says. “But it was new enough that it was still kind of exhilarating. You know you’re going in the right direction if it scares you as much as it excites you.”
As a performer who has spent the better part of her adult life on stage, Anderson’s transition to solo work is a natural progression. It is a maturation of her craft, proving that the skills honed in the improv trenches—listening, reacting, and finding the truth in the moment—are perfectly suited for the intimate, high-stakes environment of a one-woman show.
Logistics and Accessibility
For those wishing to witness this evolution, Jewelry Power Elite will be performed at the Dudley Riggs Theatre, located at 824 Hennepin Ave., Minneapolis. The production runs for four performances: Friday, July 24; Saturday, July 25; Friday, July 31; and Saturday, August 1. All shows begin at 8 p.m.
With tickets priced at $20, the production remains accessible, inviting both longtime fans of the Brave New Workshop and new audiences to engage with a work that is as much about the act of dressing up as it is about the courage required to show up in a fractured world.
In an industry that often demands constant reinvention, Lauren Anderson has found a way to honor her past while boldly stepping into a more introspective future. Through the simple act of choosing her jewelry, she has crafted a show that encourages her audience to do the same—to find their own "power elite," their own source of courage, and to wear it with unapologetic pride.