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The founders of Turbo — a design studio in Amman, Jordan — built a set to photograph this model tiger “as if it went to the jungle and it found some records.”

People often point to Beirut when they talk about design in the Middle East. “Beirut is saturated,” counter Mr. Abu-Jaber and Mr. Hussein. Amman is where you can try something new.

Amman has long been transited by waves of migrants and refugees — Palestinians, Egyptians, Iraqis and, more recently, Syrians. The city’s openness has turned it into a growing, culturally diverse place where many young people want to establish themselves. Amman Design Week, sponsored in part by the Jordanian government, has been held twice now, with exhibitions of work by designers from around the region. And a creative community has developed (and gentrified) the trendy Weibdeh neighborhood, which has been likened to Brooklyn’s Williamsburg.

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The large storefront of Turbo drew attention to a pop-up shop it held in 2016 for the bold, architectural chairs of a Palestinian furniture company, Local Industries.

Mr. Abu-Jaber and Mr. Hussein run Turbo, which is just outside Weibdeh, like an experiment at the edge of that community. From their workspace on the studio’s mezzanine, they create brand identities and graphics for clients, including a local family-owned farm and an embroidery start-up. But on the main floor, they play, building large-scale installations for Design Week and hosting any artists or events that excite them.

“The way it works is the upper space is funding the lower space,” explains Mr. Abu-Jaber. Since Turbo opened in mid-2016, the lower space has been a gallery for local artists and photographers, a public music recording studio, and a pop-up shop for the bold, architectural chairs of Local Industries, a Palestinian furniture company.

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Turbo’s poster for its Local Industries pop-up uses an architectural drawing style to convey depth in the bold colors of the furniture.

On a family trip to Amman in 2016, I was eager to visit Turbo. Almost as soon as I opened the door, a smiling Mr. Abu-Jaber popped up from the mezzanine to welcome me as if we were old friends. I talked with him and Mr. Hussein about their approach, their city and the design challenge found in posters.

Our conversations have been condensed and edited for clarity, and a portion was translated from Arabic.

How did you meet?

SAEED ABU-JABER We met four or five years ago. I had a designer-crush on Mothanna’s work. A mutual friend of ours has a company called Philadelphia Skateboards based in Jordan and they had this exhibition where they gave different artists a skateboard deck to illustrate. So I did mine and dropped it off, and then suddenly my phone rings and it’s Mothanna. He was like, “I really like your skateboard, and I want it.” After that he came to Beirut when I was living there and we became better friends.

MOTHANNA HUSSEIN I used to go to Beirut because there was someone there named Saeed sitting on a rug, playing good music. There was peace.

ABU-JABER In Beirut, too, the design scene is a bit stronger. Most of the poster work I did was in Beirut because there was this kind of challenge where walking down the street there were always posters on the walls and I felt like, O.K., I’m going to do better than this. And there’s something very nice about a poster. I love the medium. I love how temporary it is.

Posters designed by Saeed Abu-Jaber. He said had been playing with combinations of typefaces, as in the poster he designed for Superfine Art.

Why come back to Amman?

HUSSEIN There is something here in Amman, but it’s not clear yet. We used to go to Beirut and use the nature, use the place, but we wouldn’t take anything from them. We feel that it’s not right for us to take from other places because what they have is theirs.

ABU-JABER We grew up here. There’s plenty of room in Amman to try and do something a bit different.

HUSSEIN Here, where could one take from? There’s not a Bauhaus or a De Stijl. There’s nothing you could say is the school. Or, maybe there will be, but not now. So, you want to take from these old schools or the people around you but not in an obvious way. I think a smart designer is a smart thief. Here you can be a smart thief.

ABU-JABER Mothanna is very observant, way more than I am. The fact that he was here and I was out of the country most of the time — I was in England and then Beirut — he knows this place more than I do for sure. He’s able to translate that very well, both graphically and visually. And it’s important.

Posters and artwork by Mothanna Hussein. He built a custom light box to experiment with photographing objects like this fish in a glass.

Was it challenging to start?

HUSSEIN Everyone was against the idea of Turbo. But with Saeed, it was like, “Let’s do this thing — who cares about everyone else?” The world always has opinions about what you’re doing. But when they see it, khalas,* they love it.

ABU-JABER I had nervous breakdowns sometimes! We’re still figuring it out. And we moved in and realized it’s a really big place. We’re like two children who built a castle with pillows that’s too big and we want friends to come and play. It’ll be fun.

HUSSEIN And Weibdeh, as a place, khalas. People want to come down here.

ABU-JABER It’s in Wast al-Balad, on one of the oldest streets in Amman. For the longest time, it just had travel agencies. If you walk down this street, there are six or seven. There’s so much foot traffic. We want to do something where people come in.

*Khalas is an Arabic word that translates to, “It’s done.”

The designers screenprinted their poster for Never Records, a traveling, public music recording studio, on plywood.

The poster for Turbo’s new cafe uses the Arabic lettering from a mural in the studio that reads, “Yes .. Yes.”

Mr. Abu-Jaber and Mr. Hussein use grids to design within a “visual system,” they said, like in this poster for a workshop on the elements of Arabic type.

How did you come up with the name?

HUSSEIN We talked about a lot of names. Then one time we were on the phone and Saeed suggested Turbo, and I said, “ Yes, that’s it.”

ABU-JABER It’s so hard to name something. We had pages for weeks just saying the stupidest things.

HUSSEIN You can put it wherever you want, in any sentence. There is a local thing where people describe others by saying, “Wallah,* this guy, he’s turbo. His work is turbo.” It means he’s fast and smart.

*Wallah is an Arabic word that translates to, “I swear.”