The pan and the colour of it all

I have already posted about casting for a Claire, but that is not all I have been busy with.
I have also begun writing a new version of the one of the other parts of Tidal Barrier, Paul. I want to post about that latter, when some of the thoughts and ideas are better formed.
I have also been thinking about the visual language. Two weeks ago my friend David, the photographer came over to the flat. He had offered to develop the shooting style. I decided it would be interesting to examine one idea, that of the pan that occurs near the beginning of Claire.

And then the camera pans across what may be a rooftops and then it is black. This is a wipe.

I suppose my question was simply, did it mean anything? I often add something instinctively, then spend a great deal of sweat and tears trying to figure out what it means.
The pan that I described is the only time the camera move in the whole of Claire's story. It seemed important that I understand why. And David was going to help me develop it further.
First David wondered if a pan should not introduce each part, that is Sophie, Claire and Paul, or any significant part, so that it is a part of the language of the film. And also that the pan should be organic to the scene and that we should start by finding potential organic starting points. In my flat, which consists of one long box, and is ideal for home cinema, we have given the space some structure by hanging curtains and dividing the room into three spaces. So we placed the camera near the one set curtains to begin. The curtain material was interesting, as from a distance they were opaque, but close-up, where we set the camera there were fine holes, where light and shadow could be seen. So the camera panned from black, to the macro-view of the curtain, and panned across from complete black, to a close-up of the curtain, which were like stars, with the orange light shining through the fine holes, to the space and Claire then, listening, or rather not listening, as Paul berates her for not truly being there.
From this it seemed important that experiment with other pans in Claire's story, where the camera seems to catch Claire at some activity, by chance. So imagine again the camera in a hallway, panning from black, to a doorways, and walls, into a room, where Claire seems to slip into the frame. Or beginning the same again, but at the end instead capturing the back or Claire as she enters a room, shutting the door behind her.
Is that what the pans meant, catching something unawares, unprepared? Is this distinct to those static shots, which seemed were predetermined to capture all?
There were also some images that I was unsure of, especially in the first scene, where it seems too complicated and confused.

In the background, out there, pinned to a fence or hung on a roof, are those fairly lights? It is hard to tell. Out of focus, seen through a rain soaked window, they are like stars.

I wanted to refer to stars, to tie one of the final images together, where Claire, having sent Nick away, searches for some way out, an answer to that question.

She lies down in the grass and looks from the trees up to the stars. She scans and scans.
But it is overcast and all there is undifferentiated gray. A nothing. No relief anywhere.

So here I have played against the romantic notion of looking up to the stars. If you go up to Parliament Hill on Hampstead Heath on a clear night you will couples sitting, holding hands, looking up to the heavens. But Claire is alone, and she sees nothing.
I also played on this idea, in two other scenes in the same park at night, when Claire first meets Nick, and just before the scene above, when she sends Nick away.

Out of focus, at a distance, the coloured lights of people and life.

Here it is some imagined life and relationships that other people seemingly lead, but which is out of reach of Claire.
David began thinking of achieving this image again inside the flat, with reflections and shadows, growing out of the place and the actions.
But looking back on the idea I wonder if it is just confusing because we have Claire seeing stars, being part of a star scape, and then not seeing stars, seeing a blank, a nothing, being a part of a blank, but no clear idea of why the distinction happens except at the end.
What else? Well David was interested in the quality of the light the camera might come across in the pans, or where a practical light burst on. Would there be a colour or colours? Could these colours then form part of a colour mood of the scene we are moving to? The bedside lamp is red so there is a red light in the space and a red mood in the scene. But why red, or green or yellow? So suddenly art direction seemed so much more critical than it has done. Of course the main reason it hasn't been up to this point is the size of the budget and the lack of an art director.
Well, this is just the beginning. I am hoping to meet up with JC soon and continue the experiments, and with David too, who lives close to Epping Forest, where we might be able to shoot the summer weekend scene.