The ochre hills, patchwork vineyards and olive groves of Tuscany, lorded over by medieval towns and elegant villas shielded by clumps of pine, are probably among the most familiar of the world's backdrops, used to felicitous effect in Renaissance paintings, 19th-century novels and innumerable Italian movies.
But as background in advertisements for crackers, Japanese cars, tights, extra-soft toilet paper and even a bidet artistically placed in Florence's Piazza della Signoria . . ? That, in the view of Tuscany's regional officials, is taking familiarity too far.
So now Tuscany is striking back, with a proposal to effectively copyright the region's natural landscape. Local officials, aware that such a notion could never have the force of law, hesitate to use words such as copyright, licence or trademark. But they are quite serious about trying to stop non-Tuscan brand names from flitting across Tuscan scenes.
"We are simply trying not to let our landscape be trivialised by ugly advertising," said Vannino Chiti, president of the Tuscan region.
For centuries, even before the Medicis, Tuscans have been fiercely protective of a countryside that is a harmonious blend of man-made and natural beauty. "We feel that our landscape and cultural heritage are the oil of Tuscany," Chiti said. "People have worked nature for centuries, so it is up to us not to destroy it."
But there are always threats, such as a 380,000-watt powerline, strung across giant orange and white pylons 220 feet high, that recently sprang across the hills to the south-east of Florence like a huge ski lift.
Aghast at the prospect of losing views that had remained virtually untouched since the Renaissance, neighbours along the road known as the Colleramole mounted a vigorous campaign, joined by historical societies and consumer groups. The protesters insisted that they had nothing against progress, or the benefits of electricity. But in a country where eagle-eyed state inspectors are ready to swoop down with fines and denunciations for the slightest alteration to historic and artistic monuments, it seemed ludicrous that the state should deliberately bring ugliness to one of Italy's most precious spots.
"These are the hills of Florence," said Mario Bojola, a 70year-old retired business consultant who headed the Collaramole area's anti-pylon committee. "They are a legacy for all humanity."
"We are not saying remove them," said Amy Luckenbach, an American puppeteer who has lived for 30 years in the house once owned by the 15thcentury painter Domenico Gherlandaio. "We are saying just find a different way to do it without ruining a landscape that has been revered for centuries."
Italy's state-owned power company, ENEL, recently agreed to suspend further work until November while it studies burying the line. The company also promised to relocate three of the most offensive pylons (including one on the doorstep of a 15th-century villa) and to consider repainting the giant eyesores a more aesthetically acceptable shade of green.
At a time when the marketing of Tuscany, its image and its products, is enjoying a boom overseas - particularly in New York, where a Tuscan emporium is to open in Rockefeller Centre soon - the region is more sensitive than ever to the preservation and protection of its natural assets.
At last count, the region in the heart of Italy, which encompasses the cities of Florence, Siena and Pisa, was drawing 32 million tourists a year, and was cited in recent surveys as one of the world's most desirable places to live.
The main target of a new regional law, now under review, is the protection of Tuscany's agricultural products - its olive oils, its cheeses and its wines, which include the Chianti region. To protect Tuscan producers, the region is proposing its own voluntary "made in Tuscany" trademark that would guarantee the quality it wants to maintain for local products.
But the other aim is to weed out those products - agricultural and other - that try to associate and sell themselves with images of Tuscany.
"There are so many ads that give the impression that the products they are promoting are Tuscan when they are not," Chiti said. "That makes it false advertising."
Laying claim to a landscape, however characteristic, is a virtual legal impossibility, as Tuscan legislators are well aware. But they want to open up the idea for discussion, and maybe eventually for remuneration.
"We would like to ensure that if Tuscan landscape is used, that it be credited," Chiti said. "You would have to specify that you are looking at a Tuscan countryside, because we feel this would have positive implications for the region. For example, a contribution could be given that could be put in a fund for the protection of the landscape and monuments."
Predictably, the region's proposal has been met with outrage and scorn from advertisers, and photographers.
"If ad agencies choose to make their advertisements in Tuscany, they do it because it is a very beautiful region that no one has succeeded in ruining," said Oliviero Toscani, the celebrated image-maker for Benetton, told an Italian newspaper.
"Now they are trying to defend themselves, but against whom? Advertisers? Advertisers aren't a threat, they are simply a link between producers and consumers."