Adorning the Resistance: Lauren Anderson Brings "Jewelry Power Elite" to the Minnesota Fringe

As the Minnesota Fringe Festival prepares to ignite the local arts scene on August 6, one of the city’s most seasoned comedic voices is stepping back into the spotlight with a project that is as deeply personal as it is hilariously sharp. Lauren Anderson, a luminary of the Twin Cities comedy circuit and a veteran of the legendary Brave New Workshop, is reviving her acclaimed one-woman show, Jewelry Power Elite, for a special two-weekend run at Minneapolis’ historic Dudley Riggs Theatre.

The production, which debuted as a Fringe festival hit last year, marks a significant evolution in Anderson’s two-decade career. Moving beyond the collaborative safety of ensemble sketch and improv, Jewelry Power Elite serves as a poignant, glittering manifesto on how we use material objects to anchor our identity, find courage, and—in increasingly turbulent times—take a stand.

A Legacy of Laughter: The Roots of a Performer

To understand the weight of Anderson’s solo work, one must look at the foundation of her craft. Born and raised in St. Louis Park, Minnesota, Anderson’s comedic DNA was forged in the fires of late-20th-century television. Her early inspirations read like a pantheon of comedic greats: the manic genius of Robin Williams, the subversive charm of Steve Martin, the physical brilliance of Chris Farley, and the unparalleled versatility of Carol Burnett.

“I thought Carol Burnett had the coolest job in the world,” Anderson reflects. That admiration for a performer who could transition seamlessly between slapstick and sincerity remains a hallmark of Anderson’s own stage presence.

Her professional trajectory began in the educational theater circuit with Climb Theatre, a company dedicated to performing for young audiences. This experience provided the rigorous training ground necessary for her next big step: the Brave New Workshop (BNW). After earning a scholarship to train with the prestigious troupe, she joined their ranks in 2004, eventually transitioning to full-time status by 2006.

For the better part of twenty years, Anderson became synonymous with the Minneapolis comedy scene. Whether performing high-wire improv or tightly scripted sketch, her career was defined by the relentless pace of weekend shows. "I’ve been on stage for most of my adult life," Anderson notes. "To the point where when I have an odd Friday off, I’m like, ‘What do normal people actually do?’"

Her only significant professional hiatus occurred in 2020, when the COVID-19 pandemic shuttered live venues and forced the Brave New Workshop to lay off its cast. While the company has since been absorbed into the structure of Hennepin Arts, Anderson continues to work with the institution on a project-by-project basis, navigating the post-pandemic landscape with the same resilience that defines her current show.

The Genesis of "Jewelry Power Elite"

The concept for Jewelry Power Elite was not a lifelong ambition, but rather a serendipitous spark. Derek “Duck” Washington, a prominent Minneapolis director, performer, and the force behind Rogues Gallery Arts, had long been a student of Anderson’s craft.

"She just has this charm that sucks people in," Washington says. His conviction that Anderson was ready for a solo show was solidified after watching her perform a post-pandemic cabaret sketch. In that piece, she expertly satirized the surreal isolation of the era, from the sourdough bread-baking craze to the anxieties of online dating, all while punctuated by the recurring, deadpan refrain: "It got weird."

"While watching it, I was like, this could be a whole show," Washington recalls. When he eventually proposed the idea to Anderson, the performer was initially taken aback. However, the seed took root. Anderson began to reflect on her own life, seeking a narrative thread that could tie together her personal history, her professional journey, and her worldview. She found that thread in her jewelry box.

"I was like, ‘What if I told stories about my life through the lens of the jewelry I wore when it happened?’" she explains.

More Than Bling: A Manifesto for Courage

At its core, Jewelry Power Elite is a clever, disarming exploration of human agency. Anderson uses her collection of statement jewelry—bold, often eccentric pieces—as a starting point for deeper conversations about self-presentation and intent.

"The show is really kind of a manifesto for finding the thing that makes you feel intentional and gives you courage," Anderson says. She argues that because jewelry is an inherently "unnecessary" luxury, the act of choosing a piece is a deliberate, personal declaration. "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 year’s production builds upon the original Fringe run by incorporating fresh material, most notably Anderson’s reflections on her recent foray into political activism. For Anderson, the personal and the political have become inextricably linked, particularly in the wake of the trauma that swept through Minneapolis in recent years.

"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 says. In the aftermath, she found that her jewelry provided a strange but effective armor. "One of the things that helped me live to fight another day was to brace myself and put on some protest jewelry."

The Diplomatic Arsenal

A centerpiece of the show is Anderson’s fascination with the late Secretary of State Madeleine Albright. Albright was world-renowned for using her collection of brooches as a form of non-verbal communication, famously referring to them as part of her "diplomatic arsenal."

Anderson’s collection includes pieces by designer Heidi Daus, specifically a dove of peace brooch she wore during a winter "No Kings" protest. By invoking the spirit of Albright, Anderson elevates the conversation from mere fashion to a practice of symbolic defiance. She illustrates how, even in the darkest of times, the simple act of choosing what we wear can be a powerful assertion of identity and a tool for survival.

Pushing Boundaries: Comedy and Vulnerability

For those who have followed Anderson through two decades of sketch comedy, Jewelry Power Elite offers a surprising depth. While the show remains fundamentally anchored in her signature wit, it does not shy away from heavier emotional terrain.

"I’m always trying to make people laugh," Anderson admits. "It’s my favorite way to connect to people, but in this instance, it was nice to let those dramatic moments roll."

This transition into vulnerability was a deliberate choice, one that challenged her as a performer. She describes the process as both terrifying and exhilarating—a hallmark of true artistic growth. "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."

Looking Ahead: The Fringe and Beyond

As the curtain rises on the upcoming dates at the Dudley Riggs Theatre, Jewelry Power Elite stands as a testament to the endurance of the Twin Cities arts community. By blending the comedic timing of a veteran sketch performer with the raw, introspective storytelling of a solo artist, Anderson has created a show that resonates with the complexities of contemporary life.

The show is scheduled to run on Friday, July 24, Saturday, July 25, Friday, July 31, and Saturday, August 1, at 8:00 p.m. at the Dudley Riggs Theatre, located at 824 Hennepin Avenue in Minneapolis. Tickets are priced at $20.

For the audience, the show promises a night of laughter, but it also offers something more enduring: an invitation to examine their own lives, to find the "jewelry"—the talismans, the habits, the sources of strength—that allow them to face their own worlds with intention and courage. In an era that often feels increasingly chaotic, Lauren Anderson’s reminder that we have the power to "announce ourselves" is both a timely and necessary message.